Gladiator
by Hunter Stag
Summary: A squirrel and an otter, fighters for a vermin warlord, escape from his fortress to Redwall. Unfortunately, they bring their troubles with them. There's also a romantic subplot. Rated T for violence.
1. Riot

The sun shone through a barred window, shining into the russet facial fur of a young squirrel that lay in its path. The squirrel shifted and squinted, yawning and groaning. Blinking, he turned to the otter that slept on the other side of the cell. "You awake?"

The otter rolled over, squinting at the squirrel. "Yes. Unfortunately."

The squirrel smiled and gave a snort. He then sat up as there was a loud banging on the cell's door. "Get up, you useless swine! We ain't got all day! Get to the trainin' area, now!"

The squirrel rolled his eyes. He and the otter rose as one and walked out of the cell, down the stone hallway towards a small room filled with weapons. They each walked to opposite sides of the room and taking weapons from the walls. The otter picked a spiked gauntlet that fit over one paw, a javelin, a rolled-up, weighted net, and a dirk. The squirrel picked up a sword and shield, and also a sling. They both walked out together, still menaced by the ferret guard's spear.

The training yard of the vermin motte and bailey structure that encompassed their quarters, along with all of the other woodlander prisoners, was composed of a high, wooden palisade with a wide platform that allowed guards to patrol it. In the center, below the wall, was a small, sandy area that could hold about forty. As the two walked into the yard, leaving the ferret guard behind to stand at the door, they muttered soft greetings to each of the other prisoners.

It was like this every morning. The forty or so creatures that had been captured and brought here went out to a training yard every morning to practice fighting. The vermin that ruled this fortress enjoyed watching them fight to the death, and then spend their nights cavorting around a "bonfire" made from those that had died that day. It was gruesome, and the smell of burned fur made a stink in the air that lingered constantly, assailing the nostrils of the survivors. Raids were periodically launched into the woods surrounding the fortress, getting new meat for the arena.

As the two took their places across from one another for a practice fight, the otter looked around and then whispered to his friend. "You think we can get all of our weapons out of here too, Thyre?"

Thyre the squirrel shrugged as he fixed the shield to his arm with a strap that left his paw free to grasp. "Maybe, Jarren, but I'm not sure. Your net would probably be too heavy to carry for long distances, though. We'd need to travel light."

"Oy!" one guard on the wall shouted down. "Wot're yew two talkin' about?"

Thyre looked up. "Nothin', sir."

The guard narrowed his eyes. "Well, make sure it _stays_ that way. You lot ain't got a prayer o' gettin' out o' 'ere!"

Jarren narrowed his eyes, then turned back to Thyre. The squirrel began the bout with a horizontal swing at neck height. Jarren ducked forward and stabbed with his javelin, causing Thyre to jump backwards before swinging his shield to turn away another stab. He swung his sword again and Jarren again ducked, swinging the net out to entangle the squirrel's footpaws. Thyre twisted away from the seeking weights and unhooked his sling with his shield paw, spinning it briefly before launching it at his opponent's shoulder. Jarren ducked and then hurled his javelin in kind. Thyre caught it on his shield, then drew his paw out of the strap to wield his sword double-handed. Jarren drew his dirk with a free paw, then hurled the net. It spun through the air and nearly caught Thyre, catching him with a stinging blow across the back of his ear. Thyre felt blood begin to flow, but didn't pause. He ran forward and then spun left at the last second, swinging his weapon at Jarren's back, but the otter had already turned and his dirk's guard was now crossed with Thyre's sword's own as the otter grabbed his arm.

Thyre smiled. "Tied again."

Jarren smiled back and nodded, and they both released each other. They had known each other for so long that they knew each other's moves instinctively. Sitting with their backs against the compound wall, Thyre motioned to the spiked gauntlet that Jarren wore on his off paw. "You still haven't corrected that mistake."

Jarren shrugged. "I don't like to use it. Just a way to draw it out, in my opinion."

Thyre chuckled and smiled. "Maybe. But those spikes could be the difference between life and death in a real match one day."

Jarren nodded grimly. Thyre looked up at a disturbance across the yard. A newly arrived mouse, wielding a small dagger, had overextended himself while stabbing at a sackcloth dummy. Stumbling forward, he had accidentally cut a weasel across the shoulder.

"Ye stupid little whelp!" the weasel growled as he struck the young mouse across the face. The mouse hit the ground, clutching the rapidly swelling area as the other captives moved away. There were serious repercussions if you interrupted one of the guards in the middle of a beating.

Thyre clenched a paw. Jarren noticed it and put a paw on his friend's shoulder. "Don't do it, mate." he whispered. "This isn't your fight."

Thyre gently pushed Jarren's paw off of him. Taking the otter's dirk and then picking up his sword from where he had laid it against a pillar, he stood, looking at his friend. "It is now. I'm sick of them doing this, Jarren. They pick on the new ones just because they don't know the first thing about fighting." While they were speaking, the weasel had been kicking the mouse in the stomach. One particularly hard strike caused the mouse to retch, spraying vomit across the ground. When he tried to stand, the weasel struck him again, sending him sprawling once more. The weasel got closer and raised his spear to finish the unfortunate creature off when the strike was turned aside, thudding into the ground.

Startled, the weasel looked up. Thyre stood there, a dirk in his off paw and his sword in the other. The weasel glared. "Stay outta this, bushtail!"

Thyre pointed his blades at him. "I'll stay out of it if you let the young 'un be. He's not used to fighting. None of us were when you brought us here."

"And he'll learn it the 'ard way, just like you!" the weasel roared, stabbing at Thyre with his spear. The squirrel crossed his blades in front of him, stopping the blade before turning it aside with the dirk and slicing the weasel across the chest with the sword. Shrieking, the weasel fell to the ground. Thyre blocked another strike from the ferret in the doorway and shoved his elbow into the ferret's stomach. With a loud _oof_ the ferret stumbled backwards into the wall. Now other guards were closing in on the defiant squirrel. One guard was jumped by a hedgehog that bore him to the ground and held him there, his paws around the rat's throat. A fox was hit in the chest by a stone from a sling that had been fired by a shrew. The fox fell to the ground, clutching his chest.

Alarm bells began to ring as the fight escalated into a full-blown riot. More guards waded into the fray, beating the others with the shafts of their spears. They were forbidden to kill any of the prisoners under pain of death, though beating them to within an inch of their lives was permitted. Thyre stood in the center of the maelstrom, defending himself with skill born of countless battles and a repressed anger that had been hidden for far too long. Turning aside attacks with slashes of his own, he was not under the same restrictions the guards were. Knocking a spear aside with a well-timed slash, he stabbed its fox wielder in the stomach before withdrawing the blade and causing the blade to collide with another spear. The spear was deflected, bring Thyre's elbow in line with his attacker's face. He forced it into the ferret's nose, the crack of bone audible even over the fight. Thyre then struck the ferret across the head with the flat of the sword as he spun. He turned and saw a spearbutt approaching his head before it connected, causing his vision to explode in a white flash of light which then faded to a darkness that enveloped everything.

The pine marten walked into the yard, escorted by other guards. The riot had calmed down after the other fighters had seen the instigator fall. He walked over to Thyre's unconscious body, lying face down on the sandy ground. A large wound on his head was staining the ground on the right side of his head a dark red, the blood rippling as it moved passed the squirrel's mouth. The pine marten nodded appreciatively. If the squirrel hadn't been breathing, he would have had to kill the guard that had done it. That squirrel was one of the more popular ones in the arena. It would have been a shame to lose him. The pine marten looked around at the handful of dead guards around the squirrel. One was still writhing in pain after a stab wound in the stomach had sent him onto his back, shrieking. Though the screaming had quieted, the weasel still writhed in pain. The pine marten held out his paw, and one of his escorts handed him a spear. He raised it, then stabbed the spear into the weasel's chest. The guard screamed as the pine marten twisted it back and forth, then went limp. The pine marten then pulled the spear out, handed it back to the guard, and looked around the rest of the training grounds. Other fighters had also been rendered unconscious, but none were dead. He looked at one of the surviving, uninjured guards. "Get the wounded to the infirmary. Even the fighters. They are not to get food or drink for three days."

The guard saluted with his spear, but did not leave. "What about the squirrel, Chief?"

"Put him in the locks. Get him healed too. I will inform you of a punishment later."

Two guards stepped forward and seized either of Thyre's arms, dragging him out of the yard. Other guards began to step forward and do the same to the other unconscious combatants, guards and fighters alike.

Jarren was helping the young mouse up when the pine marten approached him. "Look at me, otter." the pine marten whispered.

Jarren obediently raised his head. "Yes, lord?"

"Tell me, otter. Do you know who I am?"

"You are Valcyn, lord of this fortress."

The pine marten nodded. "Good. And do I hear of everything that goes on in my fortress?"

"Yes. I apologize for Thyre's behavior. I tried to warn him, told him that it wasn't his fight, but he didn't listen."

The pine marten glared at him. "I am not interested in your petty excuses. You will share your friend's punishment, and one of you will come out worse for wear. Get that mouse to the infirmary. I don't want fresh meat to be dead before its first fight."

Jarren watched him leave. "Yes, lord." He turned to the mouse, who was leaning heavily on him. "Everything's fine now. My name's Jaren. What's yours?"

The mouse, who was breathing heavily after the beating he had endured, could barely raise his head to look at Jarren. "A-A-Aaron." he said, stuttering.

Jarren smiled. "Well, Aaron. Come with me. You'll get used to it soon. I promise."

He supported Aaron as the two walked out of the gate, towards the infirmary.

**You'll see what the punishment is. In case anyone's wondering, this will be the longest fanfic I've ever posted. (I have one that's over a hundred pages, but that one has so much borrowed from Pirates of the Caribbean I'd have to put a disclaimer on it. R and R!**


	2. Fight Between Friends

Thyre woke up in a small stone cell. Iron bars covered one side of the door and a barred window was above him. He felt his head where he had been struck. It was heavily bandaged, and damp from the blood that stubbornly continued to flow. He got up and immediately felt dizzy, sitting heavily back down on the cot. The guard at the door turned at the motion and sneered. "Well. Look at who's awake. Sleep well, whelp?"

Thyre glared at him, but said nothing. The guard continued. "Valcyn's got a special punishment for you, bushtail. You ain't gettin' fed, either. Not 'til it's time."

Thyre cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "Time for what?"

"You'll see."

Thyre felt a warm stickiness flowing down his cheek. He brushed his paw along the side of his face and looked at it. Blood was slicked along it. The guard glared. "Great. Now I've got to change that bandage again."

He walked in and took out a roll of gauze, stripping the bandage off and winding the fresh gauze around Thyre's head. As soon as he tied the bandage, Thyre charged at him and slammed the guard's head into the wall. Throwing the unconscious rat onto the floor, he picked up the spear and ran out the open door…

Only to run in directly into Valcyn and a number of guards. The pine marten glared at the squirrel. "Well. You are indeed resourceful."

Thyre hefted the spear and pointed it at the pine marten. "Stay back."

Valcyn moved faster than his eye could see. Thyre's spear was knocked from his paws and the squirrel was shoved up against the wall, a knife blade against his throat. Valcyn gave him a cold smile. "You do not scare me, whelp. And you never will."

Thyre glared back. "That remains to be seen."

Valcyn's guards pushed him back into the cell, checking his head. The wound was beginning to scab over. The guards walked back out and slammed the door shut, then saluted Valcyn. "He'll be ready in a few days, sir."

Valcyn gave a feral smile. "Good. Very good. How is his opponent?"

"Perfectly fine. He is strong, well fed, and still training."

Valcyn nodded. "Good. It should be an interesting match. Though, as punishment for breaking out, revoke the food that the squirrel was to be given the day before."

The guards nodded and walked out, escorting Valcyn as he left. Thyre's head was now filled with two different questions. Who his opponent was, and about the food he had lost. He didn't care about the latter, however. Where was Jarren? Was he safe? What about the other fighters?

He could do nothing but settle down and wait. His head wound began to pain him once more. Thyre walked back to his cot and attempted to go back to sleep, sighing. He could only hope that they were all safe. He rolled over and sighed again.

A few days later, Thyre stood in a stone hallway. It was filled with weapons that were piled on racks, laid out on the floor, and leaning against the wall. He took his customary weapon set, a sword, a shield, and a sling. He tried to ignore his stomach growling from five days of no food.

A guard approached. "It's time, bushtail."

Thyre turned, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. Jeering and cheering greeted him from scores of vermin. Thyre started walking into the arena. He could see vermin trading various items. Belts, daggers, jewelry and various other trinkets. He could see Valcyn standing in an ornamented box. Thyre sighed again and turned towards the door on the other side of the arena.

Valcyn held up a paw, and the arena quieted. The pine marten gave a toothy smile and spoke, his voice projecting across the empty space. "Welcome. Today, we are host to one of the most vicious fights that we have ever seen. The squirrel Thyre, in punishment for organizing a rebellion in my fortress, shall pay the ultimate punishment. He will fight his closest friend."

"No!" Thyre shouted. Nobeast heard him. They were too busy cheering as the other gate opened and Jarren walked through it. The otter was more heavily armed than normal. He now carried two javelins, a sword, two spiked gauntlets, a dirk, and a pair of throwing knives. A buckler hung from his waist. Thyre drew his sword and took his shield in his arm. Its rim gently hit his chest. Jarren stood there quiet until Valcyn's voice echoed through the arena.

"Begin!"

Jarren stabbed the two javelins he had into the ground, then drew his throwing knives, hurling them at Thyre one after the other. Thyre caught them both on his shield, then ran forward as Jarren drew his sword, charging forward with the sword in one paw and the buckler in the other.

The two came together with a terrific clang. Thyre spun away from the impact and sliced at Jarren's waist. The buckler was there immediately, making the sword bounce off of the metal with another loud clang. Jarren then followed it up with a sudden uppercut that caught Thyre in the jaw, making him stumble backwards as the otter pressed his advantage home. As Jarren swung, Thyre ducked under and, with his shield in front of him, tackled his former friend in the stomach. He heard a loud crack, then heard Jarren's breath leave him with a loud _woof_ as the otter stumbled backwards and almost fell. He recovered quickly, however, and charged again. Thyre blocked his first attack on his sword, then spun to Jarren's right and sliced at his shoulder.

Jarren managed to block with the edge of the buckler, the sword's sharp steel biting deep into it. Jarren managed to extract it, throwing the now-useless shield away. He then charged forward again, raining blows on Thyre's shield. The squirrel managed to block all of the blows. The sword wasn't Jarren's strong suit. He turned aside another strike, throwing Jarren's arm out of line before slicing at his head with his sword. Jarren ducked and spun, his sword's edge seeking Thyre's waist. The squirrel moved the sword down to his side, causing the blade to glance off. Thyre then spun and swung his shield downward, hitting Jarren in the head. The otter yelped in pain and retreated a few steps, gingerly massaging the area, which was already starting to bleed, sending several rivulets of blood flowing down Jarren's face.

The otter glared at him, then drew his dirk in his off paw. Thyre braced, then attacked as Jarren reached him. They spun and swung and stabbed and ducked, moving in a tight circle in the center of the arena, neither giving up any ground. One lucky blow found its way beneath the strap of Thyre's shield, cutting it and making the shield fall to the ground. Thyre backed away as Jarren pressed the attack, frantically blocking each of Jarren's blows. Jarren managed to bring both together and thrust them forward, causing Thyre to bend over almost completely backwards and nearly fall on his back. Instead, Thyre spun, knocking the blades away as he straightened, immediately charging the otter and bulling him back across the arena's sandy floor, back to the center where they had fought. Jarren finally managed to get away and swing at the back of Thyre's head. Thyre turned and blocked the blow, then stopped short as he felt something cold and sharp slice across his chest. He screamed in pain and stumbled backwards, staring in horror at a gash in his chest. Jarren's dirk, held above his shoulder, now shone a bright red and dripped with blood. Thyre's blood. Thyre held his paw to the gash briefly, in shock.

They both paused for a moment. Both were breathing heavily. Both were wounded. But the fight wasn't over yet. Thyre charged forward and swung, but missed as Jarren duck and stabbed at Thyre's back with his blades. Thyre spun and knocked the sword and the dirk from Jarren's paws. The otter stood there for a moment, then, as Thyre swung again, ducked. Straightening, he dodged left as Thyre swung a powerful diagonal strike meant to cleave him from left shoulder to right hip.

Then he swung his left paw. The spiked gauntlet hit Thyre in his right cheek, gashing it badly as the sharp spikes dug into him. The audience, which had been screaming with excitement the whole fight, was now yelling itself hoarse. Thyre paused again, staring at the gauntlet on Jarren's left paw, dripping with blood. He swung again and Jarren dodged once more, this time hitting Thyre's left cheek. The squirrel cried out again. His hesitation was all Jarren needed. The otter kept moving forward, throwing blows at Thyre and hitting more often than not.

Thyre was driven backwards as blow after blow hit his face. One particularly powerful left hit him and sent him sprawling in the dirt, his blood spattering the ground and soaking into it. Breathing heavily, he looked up as Jarren stood over him. "So, this is how it ends?"

Jarren shook his head. "I'm not enjoying this any more than you, Thyre. But I must. Valcyn will slaughter the others if one of us doesn't beat the other."

Thyre looked at him in horror, then looked at Valcyn. The pine marten was smiling coldly, enjoying the battle. Thyre then swung suddenly, causing Jarren to jerk back or else lose a paw. They both ran from each other, Jarren towards his javelins and Thyre to his discarded shield. As Thyre picked it up and brought it into position, Jarren had picked the javelins up. He hurled one, making Thyre duck. It gashed the area between Thyre's neck and shoulder, causing a spurt of blood to fall onto the ground once again. Jarren hurled the other javelin, but this time Thyre was ready. Catching the javelin on his shield, he didn't stop running forward as the head smashed through the shield, stopping only a whisker's width from his face. He spun the shield and then threw it away. Jarren readied his gauntlets once again and swung.

Thyre jumped, and the blow whistled through the air beneath him. His blow, however, did not miss. He stabbed downward with his sword and felt it slice through fur, flesh, and muscle. Jarren cried out, then stumbled forward as Thyre landed on his paws. The squirrel turned. Jarren staggered a short distance onward, then fell to his knees and then onto his face. Thyre turned and made to help him, but archers in the stands suddenly trained their arrows on him, forcing him to stay where he was. Wild screaming now filled the air around the arena. Thyre could not take his eyes off of the horrible wound. He had gashed Jarren from right shoulder to left hip, and blood was now pouring from it, soaking into the otter's back and into the sand Jarren was lying in. Other guards ran from the doors, passing Thyre and grabbing Jarren. They dragged him from the arena out of another door that neither had used. Thyre knew where it went. To the bonfire. He could only stand there in shock, staring at the blood that had been so needlessly spilled that day.

**This fight scene was inspired by fights from "Troy" and several other places. I originally intended it to end differently, but it went right out the window after I started. R and R! And if you review, send a copy to me. For some reason my review pages for this story and the oneshot I posted seem to be broken.**


	3. Escape

That night, in his cell, Thyre couldn't sleep. He didn't want to. Though his wounds had been bound after the battle, it kept replaying itself in his mind, always ending with him seeing Jarren, bleeding, on the ground. The other fighters had wanted try and comfort him, but Thyre would speak to nobeast. He held his head in his paws and sobbed, shaking his head in confusion. He then jerked upright as a loud "Psst!" sounded into the cell. He looked up. The guard that was always outside his door was unconscious, his spear and key gone. In his place, Thyre saw as he looked up, was…

"Jarren!" he whispered joyfully as the otter unlocked the cell doors. He had Thyre's sword and sling with him, and handed them to his friend as Thyre ran forward and embraced him, careful to avoid the gash on his back, which was now, like Thyre's wounds, crusted over with congealed blood. It wasn't bleeding anymore, though, and that was the important thing. Thyre held his friend at arms' length, utterly amazed. "But how? I thought that I had killed you!"

Jarren shook his head. "Hurt me bad, mate, but didn't kill me. They took me to the bonfire. I woke up a few hours later and got away before they could come prepare it. They're all down there now, even Valcyn. I snuck into the armory and got our weapons back."

Thyre looked at the dirk and javelin that Jarren had. He wasn't wearing the gauntlets or carrying the net. "You're missing two of them."

Jarren scoffed. "After using the gauntlets against you? I ain't wearing those again. And that net's too heavy. You said that yourself."

Thyre nodded. "Right, then. Let's go."

Jarren looked at him quizzically. "We're not going to free the others?"

"We'll come back for them later. We don't have the time now."

Jarren looked at the other fighters, apprehension on his face before turning and following Thyre. The two climbed over the wall from the buildings-even the sentries were celebrating at the bonfire-and ran into the forest as fast as they could, heading north. Thyre turned at the edge of the forest to see a large pillar of smoke roiling into the air. The smell of burned fur was drifting out over the forest. Wrinkling his nose in disgust, he turned and looked at Jarren. The otter was standing at the edge of the forest.

Thyre walked over and began tearing strips from his tunic. Wrapping one strip around Jarren's head, he repeatedly tore strips off until he was wearing rags. He stripped the others off and rolled them up, wrapping them around his arm until he had an easily accessible roll of makeshift bandages.

Jarren raised an eyebrow as he looked at his now-shirtless friend. He then looked at the bandages wound around his chest. "Thanks. We should get moving."

Thyre nodded. "Right. Let's go."

They started running, running through every river that they came across and wiping their trails with tree branches.

The sun began to rise as they finally came to a ford. Jarren leaned against a tree, breathing heavily. Thyre looked at him. "Are you all right?"

Jarren nodded. "Aye. I'm fine."

Thyre looked down the river as he heard a long, undulating call. "Logalogalogalogaloooog!"

Jarren looked in the same direction that Thyre was. "What in season's name was that?"

A trio of logboats came down the river, crewed by thirty shrews that were singing raucously.

Oh, we're the Gousim, hey oh, hey oh,

We float down the river all day,

We're the Gousim, hey oh, hey oh,

And me shrews do what I say!

Thyre saw that it was only one shrew singing, keeping the rest in rhythm as they paddled. As they came near Thyre and Jarren, the shrew that was in the lead boat's prow held up a paw. The paddling slowed. The shrew looked at them. Thyre and Jarren looked back. The shrews were wearing colorful headbands and pantaloons, and had short rapiers in their belts.

The lead shrew cupped his paws around his mouth, shouting to the pair. "Who are you two?"

Thyre shouted back. "My name's Thyre! This is my friend Jarren. We're looking for a safe place. Do you know anywhere close by?"

The shrew cocked his head to one side. "What're you running from?"

Jarren and Thyre glanced at one another. Thyre looked back. "Vermin. Do you know anywhere safe?"

The shrew nodded. "Hop aboard! We'll take you to Redwall!"

The two waded into the ford. Thyre climbed in and held out his paw to help Jarren. As the otter climbed in he gave a loud cry and tumbled in.

"Jarren!" Thyre cried worriedly. He went to the otter and turned him over, looking at the rapidly spreading red stain under the bandages on Jarren's back. He looked up at the shrew. "Do you have a healer?"

The shrew nodded. He called to a female shrew in the aft of the boat. "Ferna! Get up here!"

Ferna ran up and knelt by Jarren, unwinding the bandages around the otter's back. She dug a few herbs from her pack and then cringed. "Phwoar, that's a big wound."

"Can you help him?" Thyre asked anxiously.

Ferna nodded. "Aye. It'll take a long time, but he'll heal."

Jarren groaned. "Thyre…Thyre, help me."

Thyre laid a paw on Jarren's uninjured shoulder. "I'm here, Jarren. I'm here. You'll be all right." He looked up at Ferna. "Please. We've known each other since we were little. Help him."

Ferna laid a paw on his shoulder. "I'll try everything I can. Don't worry."

Thyre didn't look reassured. The head shrew motioned to another shrew. "Get Thyre some food!"

The shrew nodded and dug into a backpack, getting out a wedge of cheese, some shrewbread, and a small firkin of water. He handed the food to the head shrew and the shrew gave it to Thyre. "Here. You should at least eat."

Thyre hesitantly took the food and began to nibble at it, resisting the urge to tear into it completely to combat his raging hunger. He kept looking at Jarren as Ferna worked on him. The head shrew tried to smile. "Relax. My name's Log-a-log. Why don't you tell me your story?"

Thyre shook his head. "I'm not really comfortable with it."

Log-a-log nodded understandingly, then shouted to the other boats. "Keep moving! I want to make the water meadows by nightfall!" He looked at Thyre. "Redwall's about a day on from the meadows. I'm sure your friend will be fine."

Thyre nodded back. "Thank you. We don't mean to cause any trouble."

Log-a-log shook his head. "It's fine. We're all going the same way. My tribe's goin' to Redwall for the midsummer feast."

Thyre smiled. "All the same, thank you."

**That injury is going to be how they manage to get to Redwall so fast. Anyways, R and R! My review pages work now, so you don't have to send me copies of them.**


	4. Redwall

That night, Jarren was leaning against a rock. Fresh, clean bandages covered his back and head. Thyre sat next to him, watching the Gousim set up camp. Thyre looked at his friend. "Are you sure you're better?"

Jarren nodded. "Yes. I'm fine."

Thyre looked at the Gousim. "They seem friendly. Do you think we can trust them?"

Jarren shrugged his good shoulder. "I don't know. I hope so. What do you think this Redwall place is?"

Thyre shrugged. "I think I've heard of it, but I can't be sure. We'll probably know when we see it, though."

Jarren smiled. "I hope so. Do you think we'll be safe there?"

Thyre looked at him. "We won't be safe until Valcyn is dead. And I won't rest until that fortress is burned to the ground and all of the others are safe with us."

Jarren looked at his friend out of the corner of one eye. "And where will you get the numbers you need for that?"

Thyre shrugged. "I don't know. But I hope that I _can_."

They were interrupted as Log-a-log walked over, carrying two large platters of food. "You both should eat. You have to keep your strength up. Especially you, Jarren."

Thyre took the plates from him and put one down beside Jarren and him. He looked up. "Thank you, Log-a-log. How far is it to Redwall from the river?"

"Not too far." Log-a-log said. "We'll provide your friend with a litter so he won't put any more strain on his injuries."

Privately Thyre thought of what Log-a-log would think if he knew that Thyre had inflicted those wounds. "Thank you. You didn't have to go through all this trouble."

Log-a-log held a paw out in front of him. "It's no trouble." He got up. "You two should get some sleep when you're done. We'll be moving out early in the morning."

Thyre nodded as Log-a-log walked back towards his tribe. He then looked at Jarren. "Do you think you'll be fine while you sleep?"

Jarren gave a slow nod. "Don't worry. Let's just eat."

Thyre was only too happy to oblige, helping Jarren eat in between bites of his own food. After they had finished, they each went to sleep.

Thyre woke up in the middle of the night for a reason that he could not fathom. He reached out, as the air beside him felt colder. He then got up as Log-a-log walked up to him. The shrew had been looking around the clearing for something. "Log-a-log, where's Jarren?"

Log-a-log shrugged. "I don't know. That's what I'm looking for."

Thyre looked around and eventually found some tracks. "Come on. We can track him."

They followed the trail to a small clearing. Jarren was leaning against a rock, coughing painfully. Thyre's eyes widened as he saw blood hitting the ground. Jarren gave another loud, wrenching cough as he fell from the rock and sank to his paws and knees. Thyre ran over to him. "Jarren, what's wrong?"

Jarren stared at his friend through eyes filled with pain. "It hurts…it hurts so much…" He fell forward, nearly knocking Thyre over.

Thyre looked at Log-a-log. "We need to go. Now!"

Log-a-log nodded. With Thyre carrying Jarren, they ran back to camp. Log-a-log roused the shrews, woke Ferna, and had her accompany them in the lead boat. The Gousim quickly cast off and began to paddle as fast as they could. Jarren moaned in the keel as Ferna knelt over him. Thyre watched them anxiously. He could tell Log-a-log was worried too, but the shrew kept his eyes to the front of the boats.

They sped along the river, not stopping. No boat showed signs of slacking. Thyre's ears perked up at a faint sound. He looked at Log-a-log quizzically. "What's that sound?"

Log-a-log smiled grimly. "Bells. Redwall's bells, tolling out midnight. We're close, but I doubt anybeast will be awake at this time." He looked back at the other shrews. "Put yer backs into it, mates! We're almost there!"

The boats slowly sped up, aided by the river's broad current. Finally, they came to another ford, this one bisected by a broad, well-trodden path. Log-a-log ordered a litter brought up and the boats moored. As soon as Jarren was on the litter and the boats beached and hidden, the group ran as fast as their paws could carry them towards Redwall. Thyre stayed by Jarren's side the whole time, looking at the otter's face anxiously as he sweated, groaned, and shuddered. Blood was leaking from one corner of his mouth, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he lay helpless.

Crikulus the Gatekeeper was asleep in bed when he heard a frantic pounding on Redwall Abbey's gate. Getting up, he stomped out of the warm gatehouse into the cool night, down the steps, and unbarred the gate. There, he was confronted with a very strange sight. Thirty shrews, five carrying an otter on a litter and a squirrel standing beside it, stood outside the gate. Crikulus looked at their leader. "Log-a-log! Good to see you again!"

Log-a-log nodded quickly. "Nice t'see ye too, Crikulus. Can't talk, though. This otter's in bad shape."

Crikulus nodded. "Bring him in. I'm sure that Justyn can do something for him."

He led the litter party, Log-a-log, Ferna, and Thyre towards the abbey as Log-a-log directed his shrews to wait at the gate.

Crikulus shoved the door open and shouted with impressive volume for a shrew of his age. "Justyn! Wake up! Your skills are needed!"

A mouse in a white nightgown barged out of a room at the far end of the infirmary, his face set with annoyance. "Blast it, Crikulus! It's the middle of the night!" His complaining stopped immediately as he saw Jarren and Thyre's worried face. "Set him down."

As the shrews gently set Jarren's litter on the ground, Thyre took a good look at Justyn. He was tall for a mouse, slim with a posture that told him that he was well muscled, despite his appearance. He looked around the infirmary and noticed a sword that hung from the wall. Justyn's voice brought him back to reality. "You! Squirrel! There is a brown bag in my bedroom. Bring it to me."

Thyre ran into the bedroom, found the bag, and ran back out again, handing it to Justyn and kneeling on the other side of Jarren's palace. Justyn ordered Ferna to fetch the Abbot and Malbun Grimp. He then looked up at Thyre, who was now biting his lip in worry. "What is this otter to you?"

Thyre looked up at him, his face set. "He and I have been friends for a very long time." He didn't add that he was the cause of Jarren's injuries.

Ferna came back into the room with two old mice on her heels. Malbun Grimp immediately went to the cabinet in the corner of the room and approached Justyn, handing him some herbs and a bowl and pestle. The other mouse put a paw on Thyre's shoulders and beckoned to him. Thyre reluctantly followed him from the room. As soon as they were in the hallway, the mouse turned to face him, smiling gently. "This may not be the best of circumstances for greetings, but, allow me to introduce myself. I am Apodemus, Father Abbot of Redwall. What is your name?"

Thyre looked back into the infirmary before answering. Justyn, finished grinding the herbs Malbun had given him into a powder, poured them into a small beaker of water before forcing Jarren to drink it. "My name is Thyre, sir. My friend and I are from the east."

Apodemus looked into the infirmary as well, then at Thyre's face. "What did you two do to get in your current condition?"

Thyre shifted from paw to paw uncomfortably. Apodemus nodded understandingly. "It's all right if you don't want to tell me now. I think that the welfare of your friend is more important."

Thyre was back into the infirmary before Apodemus had finished his last sentence. As the squirrel approached, Justyn put a paw to his lips and motioned for him to keep quiet. Blood had stopped flowing from Jarren's mouth and the otter was now breathing peacefully. Justyn directed the shrews to put the otter on a bed. Thyre hovered by them anxiously until Apodemus dismissed them all. He looked at Thyre. "You may stay in here, for the time being. And, though the time is hardly appropriate, welcome to Redwall."

Thyre nodded. "Thank you, Father Abbot."

Apodemus bowed and walked out. Thyre chose a bed next to Jarren and lay facing him, watching the otter in case something should go wrong. Eventually a great calmness came over him, and he fell asleep. His last thought was one of puzzlement, as he believed that he saw a mouse, this one armored and carrying a magnificent sword, standing over Jarren. The mouse looked up and gave Thyre a warm smile before the squirrel dropped into the sea of dreams.

**Close one, eh? Anyways, they haven't escaped Valcyn yet. Although you probably figured that out from the summary. If you're wondering what Justyn looks like, watch "The Secret of NIMH". I based him on the character Justin. You'll recognize him. He makes a very good entrance (pretending to be a toy soldier).  
**


	5. Triss

The next morning when Thyre woke, Jarren was still asleep. A calm smile was now on his face, and Thyre, finally satisfied that his friend would heal, rose and left the room. Walking around the abbey, he wandered into several rooms. After giving himself a tour, he went outside and took in the lawns. The high sandstone walls gave the grass a warm, red hue as the sun broke over them. A rustle behind him made him spin, ready to fight. He relaxed upon seeing that it was a squirrel. Female, with red fur and brown, almond-shaped eyes. He cocked his head to one side, tilting an ear in acknowledgement. "Good morning. You startled me."

The squirrelmaid smiled. "My apologies. I didn't know we had guests. When did you arrive?"

"Last night, under very…awkward circumstances."

She approached him and looked around the walls. "What's your name?"

"Thyre. I'm from east of here." Strangely, Thyre felt at ease now. Even though his stomach was now quietly growling, he felt compelled to stay and talk with this maid. "Who are you?"

She walked over to the wall, Thyre following. "My name is Trisscar, but everybody calls me Triss." She finally seemed to notice his injuries and her eyes filled with concern. "What happened to your face?"

Thyre looked at his reflection as they passed the abbey pond. Raised black marks crisscrossed his face, injuries from Jarren's spiked gauntlets. "Nothing serious. I was in a fight."

She ran a paw along one of his cheeks. "Are you sure? You should be looked at."

Thyre gently pushed her paw away. "I'm all right. My friend is in far worse condition than I am."

There was a shout from below. "Good morning, Triss!"

Triss looked down to see Justyn walking across the lawn. He was dressed in a white, long-sleeved tunic with a blue vest over it. He looked at Thyre as he came up. "Good morning. Is your friend still sleeping?"

Thyre nodded. "He seems to be fine now. Thank you. I can't tell you how grateful I am."

Triss drew Justyn's attention to Thyre's face. "Do you think we should do anything about those wounds?"

Justyn looked closely at the marks, then shook his head. "He'll be fine. I'd recommend washing that blood off, though. You may frighten the others."

Now that Thyre could see Justyn clearly, he looked familiar, but he could not remember from where. Shrugging, he went down to the pond and started splashing water on his face, gasping at the coldness of it. Dipping his head to let the water drip from it and breathing heavily from the water, he looked at them both out of the corner of his eye. "So, how long have you two been here?"

Justyn answered. "Triss has been here a few seasons longer than I have. She's Abbey Warrior, and I'm the Healer right now. Malbun still helps once in a while, but she and Crikulus and the Abbot are old. I've only been here for about two seasons."

As Thyre sat back on his haunches, he looked at Triss again. She was about his age, though her eyes spoke of enduring hardships far beyond her years. "Is it nice here?"

She smiled. "More than you can imagine." She perked up as the bells began to ring. "It's time for breakfast. Come on."

Justyn and Triss led Thyre into the abbey, all three of them still chatting amiably. As they entered the Great Hall, Thyre looked at the tapestry that hung from one of the walls. "Who is that mouse?"

Triss looked at the tapestry. "That's Martin the Warrior. He was one of the founding members of Redwall. Long ago, there was an evil wildcat that ruled Mossflower. Martin gathered an army and managed to defeat her, and they built Redwall after that."

Thyre looked puzzled despite Triss's information. Martin looked identical to the mouse that he had seen last night. The squirrel Friar, Gooch, approached him as Justyn and Triss led Thyre to a table. "Thyre, Abbot Apodemus has taken the liberty of preparing some food for Jarren. You can take it to him after you're done eating."

Thyre bowed respectfully. "Thank you, sir." He joined the other two at the table and they sat down and began to eat.

From the elder table, Apodemus smiled. "Well, it looks like Thyre has already made a few friends."

Malbun nodded. "I have no doubt that having his friend here has taken a great weight off of his shoulders."

The Skipper of Otters rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Looks like there's more than one weight, though."

**Ah, the magic of dramatic irony. Anyways, I'll post another chapter to make up for the shortness of this one. R and R!**


	6. Thyre's Story

Thyre walked into the infirmary a short time later. Jarren was still lying in bed, but managed to sit up as his friend approached. "Where are we?"

Thyre smiled. "Redwall Abbey. You nearly died on the way here, but they managed to save you." He held out the tray of food that Gooch had prepared. "And, I brought you breakfast!"

Jarren shook his head while he tried to keep from smiling. "Good. I'm starving!"

Thyre set the tray down in front of Jarren. The otter hesitantly started eating, seeing how he could move. Thyre looked around again. "It's very nice here. When do you think you'll be able to walk?"

Jarren shrugged with his good shoulder. "I don't know. Hope it's soon, though."

There was a voice at the door. "So, Jarren. How are you feeling?" Justyn stood in the doorway. The healer mouse walked up to them both and began checking the otter's bandages. "Good. You seem to be healing properly this time."

Thyre gave a relieved sigh. "Thank goodness."

Jarren smiled. "No need to get yer tail in a twist, Thyre. I'll be fine."

Thyre raised a dubious eyebrow, but smiled and gently clapped his friend on his good shoulder. Justyn looked under the sheets, then back up at Jarren. "You should be well enough to walk now. Try it."

Thyre took the sheets off of his friend as Jarren carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed. He gingerly stepped onto the stone floor and cringed somewhat as he stood on his own. Thyre stood by his side the whole time, to make sure that he did not fall over. Jarren was able to walk, though his back still pained him greatly. Justyn looked at it and shook his head, pressing his lips together. "You'll heal, though this wound on your back will be a scar when it heals."

Jarren gave a soft snort. "A reminder of what Valcyn has done to me."

Justyn looked at him, puzzled. "Who's Valcyn?"

Thyre shook his head. "Nobeast that you need to be concerned with right now."

Jarren looked at Thyre out of the corner of his eye. Thyre shook his head. There was no need to trouble them. Valcyn had not come looking for them yet. They would be told after something happened. And they would have to crawl over Thyre and Jarren's bodies before they came anywhere near the Redwallers.

The next morning, Thyre was out alone in the orchard, practicing his swordplay. Despite being able to walk, Jarren was still in bed, put there on Justyn's order that he should give his back wound time to heal, as overly-vigorous movements could tear the wound open again. Jarren had conceded, though he had confided to Thyre that he only stayed in bed because the Redwallers brought him his meals. Thyre smiled at the memory. As he turned and launched a flurry of blows at an imaginary opponent, he heard somebeast approaching him. Turning, he saw Triss standing on the edge of the clearing. She tilted her head to one side. "I didn't know you used a sword."

Thyre nodded and began another sequence. "Where I come from, knowing how to wield a weapon was a necessity. You either used a weapon, or you died."

Triss blinked. "Life must have been hard where you came from."

Thyre nodded. "It is. There are still creatures there that I would like to bring here. Peaceful, calm, serene. It is a stark contrast to where I used to live."

Triss cocked her head to one side. "Where _did_ you used to live?"

Thyre sighed, then walked over to a small rock just large enough for both of them to sit on. "Come. Sit. This might take a while."

Triss walked over to him and sat down, facing him. "There. Let's hear it."

Thyre sighed, and closed his eyes. "I come from the eastern forests. Life is hard there. You could say that we are a buffer between vermin bands and Mossflower. There, you learn to fight, or die. For many seasons, we have been plagued by a pine marten by the name of Valcyn. I've sworn to kill him."

Triss blinked. "Why?"

"My parents died the winter before. Of starvation, while trying to keep me alive. I felt responsible for their deaths. Only my grandfather was left of my family. Then, the following spring, they came.

"Valcyn's vermin had been rampaging through the region, burning villages to the ground and kidnapping the younger and healthier inhabitants. Those that were too old or sick or that resisted, they killed. We had been hoping that they wouldn't come. But they did. One day, they began to attack the edge of the village. My grandfather told me to run and hide and come back out only when I was sure that it was safe. I waited for hours, long after the screams and insane laughter had subsided, and there was only fire. There was a river nearby that ran red with blood. I went back to the village, frightened of what I would find. My grandfather was lying outside of our home, dead. They had killed him. They had stabbed him with a spear."

Triss cocked her head to one side. "How do you know it was a spear?" she asked, dreading the answer.

"Because it was still in him. I don't know how long I stayed there, crying over his body. Then, as night fell, I felt a wing brush my back. I looked up and saw Avis standing above me. He was an old owl that lived near the village. He was our healer, of sorts. He was very learned, and had been very kind to my family. After I told him what had happened, he shook his head. 'Dreadful.' he had said. 'A pity.'

"He was the only one I could turn to. He knew that. He brushed his wing along my cheek, wiping the tears away. I hugged him, crying into his plumage. He took me back to his home. We lived there together for a time, until they came again."

"Valcyn and his vermin?" Triss asked.

Thyre nodded. "Yes. It went the same as before. We heard somebeast approaching, then they started to slam against the door. Avis told me to hide and not come out. I had no sooner wedged myself into a hollow than the door burst open. I couldn't see most of the room, but I heard three twangs, then Avis coughed. He fell to the floor in front of me. Three arrows were embedded in his chest. The vermin started to look around, tearing the place apart. Then Valcyn found me."

Triss was practically on the edge of the rock now. "What happened?"

"He grabbed me and pulled me from the hollow, throwing me to the floor amid the vermin. One of them tried to grab me. I bit his paw until I hit bone, and he jerked it back, screaming. His friend raised an axe, but Valcyn stopped him. He laughed and said I had spirit. He picked me up and handed me to a weasel. As we were leaving, Avis coughed again, whispering my name. He couldn't even try to rise. Valcyn took a rat's spear, then walked over to Avis. I was forced to watch as Valcyn stabbed him in the chest, twisting the spear left, then right. Avis died in front of my eyes. I heard him choke and gurgle as his life ebbed away. The way his eyes were still haunts me. They were so large…so empty. Valcyn handed the spear back to its owner and ordered the place burnt. After the tree was aflame they took me to the camp that they had made while their fortress was being built. I was thrown into a pen with the others. We were being forced to build the fortress. Any that refused or grew too sick were killed. I resisted. I injured most of the guards throughout my time building. I would do anything, even die, to see my family and Avis again. But Valcyn wouldn't kill me. After the fortress was complete, he had the surviving builders put into a small group of barracks. The next morning, we were given blunt weapons and the vermin began to teach us how to fight."

Triss's eyes were filled with shock. "Why would they do that?"

"We were sent against one another, two at a time. Many did it out of fear of dying. Valcyn enjoyed it. He would laugh as he watched them struggle. At first, I lost more fights than I won. Valcyn always had me spared. Even though the fights were to the death, he decided who lived and who died. Eventually, I began to win more and more until I never lost. Every time I won, Valcyn had me kill the loser. Eventually, I met Jarren. We quickly became close friends. Then, a few days ago, I sparked a riot. As punishment, Valcyn ordered Jarren and me to fight one another, threatening to slaughter the others if we did not. Jarren and I were two of the oldest. We took care of some of the others, so we fought. Jarren's wounds came from my weapons. The wound on his back, from my sword. I won. I thought I killed him, but I didn't. Instead, we escaped and made our way here." Thyre sighed. "But I fear that we may have brought our troubles down upon you."

"Because Valcyn may come after you." Triss guessed.

Thyre nodded. "Yes. And this time, he won't keep my alive. He'll kill me. He knows I have enough spirit to come back and try to kill him. He won't give me the chance."

Triss bit her lower lip, then rose. "I need to tell Abbot Apodemus. He needs to know. And so do the other elders."

Thyre nodded. "Do what you must."

Triss hesitated for a moment, then left.

**Thought this thing might need a bit of backstory. Anyways, their past will come back to haunt them soon. R and R!**


	7. Planning

"You don't think," Justyn growled, "That you could have told us when you first came here?"

Thyre calmly stood with his paws behind his back, his footpaws a shoulder width apart. He didn't look at any of the elders as he spoke. "We don't even know if Valcyn is on his way. The only thing that I regret is bringing Valcyn down upon your heads." He started pacing, looking at each of the elders in turn. Jarren sat in a chair near the wall, watching his friend as the squirrel spoke again. "Listen to me," he growled. "Valcyn can take your homes. He can take your young. He can even take your very lives. But I give you my word that Jarren and I will fight to the death to keep that from happening to you."

Apodemus looked at Jarren. There was no hesitation in his eyes as he nodded in agreement with Thyre's words. "We will do everything we can to protect you all."

Triss, who had been sitting beside Apodemus, stood and sighed. "As grateful as we are for your promise, we still cannot take this lightly. We are not warriors. And we do not know where the Gousim are at the moment. The Midsummer Feast was days ago, and they have disappeared. Skipper and his crew are at the coast for the autumn. We're defenseless."

Jarren carefully stood, walking over to Thyre's side. His back had healed in the few days that the two had been at Redwall. "Thyre and I are both fighters. We can help protect any Redwallers that have to leave the abbey for any reason. We _can_ help you. You merely have to tell us how."

Apodemus sighed, bit his lip, and knitted his paws together. "We will discuss this among ourselves. In the meantime, you both should wait. We will send for you when we are ready to give you our answer."

Both bowed respectfully and left. Apodemus looked at the other elders. "Is their word trustworthy?"

Malbun shook her head, confused. "I'd like to believe that they will help us, Father Abbot, but if they have been with Valcyn as long as they claim, they might have been turned to his cause. Their offer of protection could be a trick to allow Valcyn's vermin to capture the creatures that we send out. The berries are almost ripe. We must make a decision."

Apodemus thought, then closed his eyes and began to whisper. "Martin the Warrior. If you are here among us, in this abbey, please, guide us through this troubled time. Allow us to come through it safe."

The others nodded. Crikulus looked towards the door. "We could still send out the party. But we would have to change the way we go about it. We could send Thyre, Jarren, Justyn, and Triss out along with them for protection."

Justyn shifted uncomfortably in his seat at this news. Crikulus looked at him. "I know that you do not relish fighting, Justyn. But I have seen your skills with a blade. You could be a valuable asset."

Justyn composed himself and nodded. "I will do what you ask. We should keep the party bunched together. We put little ones in the center, elders on the outside. Hopefully that will be enough."

Apodemus sighed. "We can only hope, Justyn. We can only hope."

Thyre and Jarren walked through the orchard in silence. Both knew what they had brought upon the Redwallers. Both felt horrible for it. Thyre looked at Jarren. The otter still limped slightly, but was now able to breathe normally and the pain in his back was almost gone. Thyre sighed. "What have we done, Jarren? We shouldn't have come here."

Jarren shrugged. "We would have found our way here another way. Valcyn would not have stopped hunting us wherever we went."

Thyre bit his lip. "Do you think they'll force us out?"

"Better to ask forgiveness than permission. At least we gave told them before one of them died."

Thyre nodded. "True. But can we stop this alone? If we look around, we can see it. These creatures aren't fighters. Surely there are some in the east that managed to escape Valcyn. We need fighters, Jarren. Warriors. Experienced ones. Any creature in the east that we talk to is likely to have a grudge against Valcyn. Whether for the destruction of a home, a village, a life, or the death of a loved one. We can't ignore this. If we do, he will come to Redwall sooner or later. We will be to blame if Redwall meets the same fate as our homes."

Jarren nodded gravely. "I saw too many bright lives come into Valcyn's fortress. Lives that still had much ahead of them. Snuffed out, in the blink of an eye. I hope that I never have to witness that again."

Triss came into the orchard not too far away from Thyre and Jarren, looking around for them. Spotting the two, she looked at their faces, the ones that had been so relieved and innocent now grave and aged far beyond their years. Mustering her courage, she walked up to them. "The elders have agreed to your plan. Tomorrow, when the berry pickers go out, you two, Justyn, and I are going with them. We will protect them."

They both nodded. Thyre looked at Jarren. "I'll get our weapons." Without waiting for an answer, he walked away.

Triss looked after him, then at Jarren. "He told me his story. Has he always been like this?"

Jarren sighed. "He once said to me that he did not want another creature to needlessly die. Every time he sees the smoke from the fortress's bonfire, I can hear his teeth grinding in rage. It seems wrong to him. All of those lives, the young that had been taken from their families, those that had died…to him, it's a tragedy. One that must be avenged."

Triss looked back towards the abbey as Thyre disappeared inside. "And what will you do?"

Jarren looked at the door. "I will do everything I can to help him achieve his goal."

**So as you can gather from this, there's going to be a fight. R and R! I'll post more than two chapters, because a lot of them are kind of short. R and R!**


	8. Don't Leave Me

The next morning, the party of berrypickers sat at the gate. They looked nervous as Justyn and Triss, Jarren and Thyre, all armed, walked around them. Jarren and Thyre would repeatedly come together to converse in hushed tones. Finally, Triss spoke loud enough for them all to hear. "Listen to me! We are going into the woods today, but you must follow our instructions. One of us will be in front. Another in the back, and one on either side. The young ones will be in the center, with the older on the outside. If we say run, you will run. This is for your own protection."

Crikulus and other Redwallers that were not in the party opened the gate. The party walked out, uncharacteristically quiet. None of the escort's eyes were still. They darted everywhere, taking in everything. The picking went on unmolested all morning. As the party sat and ate lunch, Thyre walked up to Triss and spoke to her. "I'm going to have a look around," he said. "Just because we haven't been attacked yet is no cause to celebrate. We can still be attacked, and we need to be watchful."

Triss nodded and Thyre ran out of the campsite. As the squirrel looked around, climbing up rocks, trees, and other high points, he always kept one ear turned back towards the Redwallers. He came to a small cluster of red sandstone rocks. Climbing the tallest one, he looked around. Then a voice sounded out.

"Thyre!"

Thyre spun, whipping out his sword and pointing it in the direction of the call. Triss stood there, her own sword drawn. She looked around the clearing. "Have you found any sign of them?"

Thyre shook his head. "Not yet. But still, that doesn't give them cause to…" He stopped suddenly, looking away from them. He turned back to Triss. "Get out of here. Get back to the others and tell them to get to Redwall as fast as they can. Don't come back for me."

Triss looked in the direction he was facing. "Is it them?"

"Just go, Triss. Run! _Run!_"

Triss ran. Thyre turned and descended the rock, sword drawn as he faced down the group of vermin that crashed into the clearing. They stood there for a moment, surprised to see him. Then, one charged. Thyre raised his sword, and, as the ferret swung his own blade, dodged. His sword flashed and stabbed into the ferret's back. Thyre pulled the sword out just in time to slice a weasel across the stomach. He fell to the ground, screaming as Thyre slashed a fox from right shoulder to left hip across his front. Spinning, Thyre ducked under the blow of a ferret and then beheaded a rat. Blocking a pair of blows from another attacker, he spun low and slashed the ferret's legs out from under him before stabbing downwards. More vermin came, driving him up the sandstone. Thyre brained one sending him tumbling into his fellows as he turned aside a strike, bringing his footpaw up into the rat's stomach and then bringing his sword down on its skull.

He looked up as a voice shouted above the clamor. "Bring me prisoners! Kill any that resist!"

More vermin began to run past. Thyre turned and leapt from the rock, landing on two vermin. Rolling over, he thrust his sword into the stomach of a fox wielding a spear. The fox's body fell on him, pinning him for a moment. He saw two vermin rush past him, only to be downed by a javelin and a flying stone.

Justyn and Jarren ran into the clearing, slashing with their weapons. Thyre heaved the fox's body off of him and turned, slicing his sword upwards and cleaving a weasel from stomach to throat. Justyn stabbed a rat in the chest before turning to him and shouting. "Thyre, go! Get back to Triss and the others!"

Thyre ran as the other two fled in another direction, drawing some of the vermin off. He flew through the branches, now following a single repeating cry of "Redwaaaaalll!" Thyre jumped from the branches into a clearing. Triss was standing in the center, surrounded by vermin bodies. As she slew another attacker, Thyre landed, stabbing his sword into the throat of a stoat sneaking up behind her. Pulling his sword out, he turned and began fighting back to back with her. They stood their ground, slashing and stabbing at the mob of vermin that was now pouring from the trees. During a lull in the assault, Triss whispered to him. "Where are Justyn and Jarren?"

"They drew some of them off," Thyre whispered back. "I don't know where they are now."

The vermin charged again. Blood flowed. Swords flashed. Screams and battle cries filled the air. As they fought, Thyre thought of something. "Speaking of Justyn and Jarren, where are the others?"

"I sent them back to Redwall after I heard you fighting. They know the way."

After a particularly ferocious assault the vermin fell back. The resulting quiet allowed Triss and Thyre to hear a distant call. "Redwaaaall! Redwaaaaaaalll!"

Triss's eyes filled with worry. "That's our battle cry."

Thyre ran past her. "We need to help them." They both ran from the clearing, fighting as they went.

In another clearing, Justyn and Jarren were protecting the party of Redwallers, which, in a panic, had lost their way and had been discovered by the vermin. Jarren fought attackers off, whirling his javelin with long-honed skill, taking down one foe after another. Justyn shouted again. "Redwaaaaaalll!" In response, more vermin came through the trees. Jarren turned to the others. "Run!" he shouted. _"Run!_"

Justyn took the Redwallers, and, calling for them to stay together, led them away from the fight. Jarren continued fighting, his weapon whirling and stabbing and striking. He drew his dirk and began fighting with one in each paw. None got past him. Then, he heard a whistling, followed by a blinding pain and an impact that knocked him back a few steps. He looked at his shoulder. A long, black-feathered arrow had struck him and blood was flowing from the wound. He looked up.

Valcyn stood on top of a low rise, a bow in one paw and a quiver of arrows on his back. Jarren took all of this in within a very short time, getting back to the fight as more vermin reached him.

Valcyn scowled. As his vermin charged past him, he took another arrow and readied it, sighting down the shaft. Below, Jarren slashed two other vermin across their chests. They dropped and Jarren stabbed a third with his dirk. Valcyn let fly. This one hit Jarren in his middle. The otter stumbled backwards again.

Jarren grunted as Valcyn's second arrow struck him. He didn't stay still for long, however, stabbing a ferret in the throat and a weasel in the chest with his dirk and javelin. Pulling his weapons out, he spun, keeping the vermin away from him. He fought until they had him backed up to a tree. Blocking one attack with his javelin's haft, he stabbed the foe in the chest and then with his dirk stabbed downward into a ferret's eye. The vermin fell to the ground screaming as Jarren brought his javelin up to ward off another blow. His eyes widened in shock as the shaft broke, showing splinters that hit his face. He threw the dirk and hit a stoat in the chest before a third arrow from Valcyn struck him in the heart. As he collapsed against the tree the vermin moved in to finish him, but Valcyn stopped them.

"Who knows how many others they could have? We will return to the fortress and come back later. Now! Come!"

The vermin followed their leader as he ran from the field. Jarren, breathing heavily, looked around. He spotted Thyre bursting from the trees with Triss almost on top of him, and smiled, closing his eyes as his friend spotted him.

Thyre and Triss burst into the clearing, Thyre gaping at what he saw.

Vermin corpses carpeted the ground. Dropped weapons lay everywhere, and at the edge of it all, lying against a tree, was…

"Jarren!" Thyre ran towards his fallen friend, trampling vermin bodies as he reached the tree where the otter lay dying. Jarren was breathing heavily with three arrows in his torso. One in his shoulder, one in his middle, and another in his heart. His javelin lay close by, cloven in two pieces. His dirk stuck out of the chest of a stoat a short distance away.

The otter opened his eyes a fraction. "Thyre…" he whispered. "…I…I'm so sorry…"

Thyre shook his head. "Don't say that, Jarren. You're not dead yet. Triss, help me lift him. We'll take him back to Redwall and…and…"

Jarren was shaking his head. "No." he whispered. "It's…too much, Thyre. I can't…I can't live through this. Valcyn was a good shot."

Thyre's paws clenched. "Valcyn."

Jarren's breath became more and more labored. "The others…got away…Justyn took them back…Thyre, please…help the others…don't let their lives…be in vain."

Thyre clasped one of Jarren's paws in his own. "I will, Jarren. You have my word. And Valcyn will pay as well."

Jarren's breath was now coming in short gasps, few and far between. "Thyre…don't…don't leave me…Thyre, come back…"

Thyre embraced his friend awkwardly, his slim body filling the gaps between the arrows. "I'm not going anywhere, Jarren. I'm right here."

"Don't…don't leave me…Thyre! Please…don't…"

Jarren's head fell back. His chest grew still. His eyes closed. Thyre hugged him even tighter, tears flowing unrestrained down his face. "No…Jarren, no…not you…of all creatures…no…"

Triss reached out and put a paw on his shoulder. Thyre didn't react. He sobbed into his friend's fur, tears mixing with the flowing blood. "Jarren…please…come back."

They sat there for hours, until the sun was setting. Thyre never stopped crying all that time. Finally, red eyed and grave, he straightened, hesitantly letting go of Jarren as if he was afraid that if he let go, Jarren's body would disappear. "Help me carry him. We're taking him back to Redwall."

Triss nodded and lifted Jarren's legs. The squirrels carried the otter's body back to Redwall. Triss had to let go to knock on the gate, and Thyre collapsed under the weight of Jarren's body. As Crikulus opened the gate, he turned first to Triss. "Justyn said that you were attacked and…" he paused at Triss's rapidly shaking head. She silently pointed to Thyre, who had his face buried in Jarren's fur.

Crikulus made to help them with the burden, but Thyre shook his head. "I'll bury him myself."

Triss hesitantly walked away, followed by Crikulus.

Thyre knelt in the open gate, still holding Jarren's body as the moon began to rise.

**Aw... Anyways, I'll still post more than two chapters, even though this one was long. It was originally supposed to be two chapters, but I decided that the death chapter was a bit short. R and R! Bemoan your feelings!**


	9. Burial and Departure

Thyre prepared Jarren's body in silence. He removed the arrows, wincing as each came free. Cleaning the wounds, he dressed Jarren in a clean habit that the Redwallers had donated. Then, he carried the otter out onto the lawn. Setting him down by the willow, he started to dig.

Triss watched him from a window, along with Apodemus, Justyn, Crikulus, and Malbun. "I feel so sorry for him. He told me that Jarren and he were friends for almost as long as they could remember."

Malbun shook her head. "It's a shame. They both had such full lives ahead of them."

Apodemus put a paw on her shoulder. "The best that Thyre could do to remember Jarren is by living both of their lives for them."

"And killing Valcyn and freeing the other fighters," Triss added. Justyn said nothing, only looking out as Thyre finally finished digging.

Out on the lawn, Thyre picked up Jarren's body and hugged him one last time. As he gently laid his friend into the grave, he whispered to himself. "I swear, Jarren…I swear by Avis, my family, and all of the others that have died because of Valcyn, that I will avenge you. Valcyn will die, and so will every vermin under his service." He sighed. "Goodbye…brother."

He put the severed halves of Jarren's javelin into the grave with him. When that was done, he began to shovel dirt back in. The sun was beginning to rise by the time he finished. As he set the last bit of dirt in place, he sank to his knees and bowed his head. Triss and Justyn stood in the doorway to the abbey, their fur standing on end as Thyre let out a primal scream, throwing his head back as the sound echoed from the walls.

"RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!"

He hadn't moved by noon. Triss decided that enough was enough. Walking out onto the lawn, she approached the grave. As she reached it, Thyre stood. "I'll need to find a stone and have the moles carve his name into it. I don't want him to ever be forgotten."

Triss came closer and put her paw on his shoulder. "He won't. He made a noble sacrifice for creatures that he didn't even know. We'll remember him."

Thyre shook her paw off of him. "I should have been there. This wouldn't have happened if I had been faster."

Triss put her paw on his shoulder again and turned him around. "You can say 'wouldn't have' and 'had been', but it won't change anything, Thyre! Jarren is dead, and there is nothing you can do to change that."

Thyre wrenched her paw away and raised the other. Triss faced him down without wavering. She narrowed her eyes as other Redwallers came out to watch them. "You think that you are the only one that suffered at the hands of vermin that could care less if you lived or died? I lived most of my life on a rocky island in the north. I saw friends, my father, and other slaves mercilessly killed. One of my friends lies by this pond too, Thyre. You are not the only one here that has had close friends die!"

Thyre glared at her for a moment more, then turned back to Jarren's grave. He drew his sword, about to kiss the blade to seal the oath when Justyn finally spoke. "Maybe he's upset that he led Valcyn here and it went wrong."

Thyre turned. "What?"

Justyn stood there with his arms folded. Thyre noticed that he also had his sword clipped around his belt. "You led Valcyn here. What was the price? You would go free after giving him a new source of fresh meat?"

"Mind your words, mouse." Thyre growled.

"You can't hurt me. Nobeast draws steel on another in Redwall."

Thyre turned back to the grave. "That may be true, but perhaps now is not the best time to taunt me."

Justyn moved closer. "Why? Are you angry because it's too late for you to do anything about Jarren? We should have left you outside and let you both die in the woods!"

With a loud roar Thyre spun, swinging his sword down with intent to cleave Justyn from head to tail. Justyn drew his own sword and was about to counterattack when a third blade, Martin the Warrior's, blocked them both. Triss held it, even angrier than before.

"Enough!" she shouted. "This stops _now_! Both of you put your swords up and back away from each other!"

"Stay out of this, Triss!" Thyre shouted back, pushing against her blade and getting closer to Justyn.

Triss forced him back until he was at the wall. Stepping back, she held her sword out. "Now you are both going to act like civilized creatures and apologize to each other."

Neither moved. Thyre glared at Justyn for a long time before raising his sword. He whispered so softly that everybeast had to strain to hear it. "This blade isn't worthy of making an oath." He then pointed it at Justyn. Triss brought her own sword up into a ready stance, but was taken completely off guard as Thyre swung his sword at the wall with all of his strength.

_Crack._

The blade bent, then shattered into a thousand glittering fragments, leaving him with only a jagged stump of a blade. Thyre took the dirk that he had placed in his belt and pointed it at the Redwallers. "None of you try to follow me. This is a matter for me and me alone."

Placing the broken sword in the other side of his belt, he began to run along the wall until he reached the east face. He then jumped off of the wall into the trees, jumping as fast as he could from branch to branch.

Apodemus rubbed his chin with his paw. "Where is he going?"

Triss remembered what Thrye had said. _"I come from the eastern forests."_ She bit her lip. "He's going home," she whispered to herself.

**The argument between Justyn and Thyre was inspired by a scene from the film version of The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian. R and R!**


	10. Coming Home

Thyre shot through the forest, startling birds and rustling branches as he almost flew through the trees eastward. Inside, he was filled with anger, which he voiced aloud. "How dare that mouse. After I kill Valcyn, he'll be next."

Back at Redwall, Triss was moving around the kitchens, packing food with help from Friar Gooch. Crikulus entered and stared at the two rapidly moving squirrels. "What are you two doing?"

"Packing for the journey, Crikulus." Triss replied.

"Journey?"

"I'm going to follow Thyre. He can't do this on his own."

Crikulus stepped forward. "Absolutely not! Abbot Apodemus will not allow it."

Triss turned to him, frustration on her face. "I don't care, Crikulus! He can't fight Valcyn on his own. He might even be suicidal!"

"He's right, Triss." Justyn walked into the room, his arms folded across his chest. "And even if you knew where Thyre was going, he's got half a day's head start on you. You won't be able to catch up to him even if you tried."

Triss began to put more food into her pack. "I'm going. Don't try to stop me."

Justyn put a paw on her shoulder. "If you're going, I'm coming with you."

Triss shrugged. "Suit yourself. But," she added, turning to him, "If you say _anything_ like you did a few hours ago, I won't intervene when he tries to kill you."

Justyn narrowed his eyes at her, but consented and began to pack food alongside the other two.

Thyre didn't want to stop, but night had fallen. He was hungry, but he made no move to go find food. Instead, he sat against a tree, taking out his broken sword and staring at it. The moonlight reflected off of it, producing a swirl of silver, crystalline fragments of light. Putting the sword away, he took out the dirk and held it to his chest. "This is as much your quest as it is mine, Jarren. A part of you should share in it."

He stabbed the dirk into the ground and then lay down beside it, watching the reflection of the moon in the blade as he dropped off to sleep.

It was not a restful night. Thyre tossed and turned, waking up multiple times throughout the night. Jarren and Valcyn both haunted his dreams. Jarren would stand in front of him and hold his arms out, begging for Thyre to avenge him. Valcyn was there next, sneering, telling him that even now, with the thought of revenge on his mind, he was still not frightened.

Finally, Thyre forsook sleep altogether. Instead, he put the dirk back in his belt and jumped into the trees to continue his journey. What they had covered in a day and a night by Gousim longboat seemed much longer, even by branch hopping. By the time the sun rose, Thyre was exhausted. Thunderclouds gathered on the horizon and spat lightning, faint roars of thunder reaching the squirrel's ears. Thyre watched it impassively for a while, then resumed his journey.

A few hours later, not looking where he was going, he slipped from a branch, falling facedown into the soft loam that covered the ground. He lay there, spent and unconscious.

Two forms rustled in the bushes, then, seeing the unresponsive squirrel, darted out and began to carry him in a more southerly direction.

**In case you're wondering, Thyre never actually goes through with killing Justyn. Another set of characters is going to appear two chapters from now, and you'll see what Valcyn is up to and some more background information about the situation in the east. R and R!**


	11. Resistance

Valcyn stared, unblinking as he took in the burning village. One of his officers-one of the few vermin that actually had ambition and a decent sense of rank-voiced what everybeast in the column of fifty was thinking. "By Hellgates…what have they done?"

The village that they had come to raid had been set ablaze and abandoned. Several bodies lay around the center, most likely creatures that had wanted to stay and fight and had been killed for their deviance. In the east, it was a possibility. Valcyn looked at the officers and indicated the village with a sweep of his paw. "Take your commands and search it. Anything you can find, bring to me. Go!"

The vermin moved out, groups of five going into the small settlement. One group walked past a barn, poking their weapons into snowdrifts and looking inside huts to see if there was any food that had been left. A noise inside a barn drew the attention of two. They turned and slowly walked in, back to back, pointing their spears into the darkness.

One, a ferret, looked around. "'O's there?"

There was no answer. The pair moved deeper into the barn. The ferret spoke again, this time to his companion in a whisper. "Don't look like anybeast's 'ere, mate. We should go back. Mate? Grimjaw?"

He turned around. His weasel companion was gone. Turning back around, he began to back out of the barn. Another team that was passing the barn saw him. Their officer pointed his spear at the frightened beast. "Where's your team, maggot?"

"Me an' Grimjaw 'eard a noise in this barn, boss! Now 'e's disappeared, and I don't know where!" He turned back around, meaning to indicate the rest of the barn. "See? Ye can't see 'im any…waaaagh!"

Grimjaw's corpse dangled on a rope from the ceiling, his dead eyes mad with fear and his mouth open in a perpetual scream of fright. The ferret screamed again as a dark shape shot from the shadows, tackling him and dragging him out of sight. The officer shouted at the top of his lungs as the ferret began to scream. "_Ambush!_"

It was too late. Other teams all around the village were suffering the same fate. Mostly random soldiers, but sometimes entire teams, were being led into dark buildings and slaughtered, their screams creating a horrific cacophony of fear.

In the square, the troops that had stayed to guard the plaza where Valcyn was awaiting reports looked around nervously. Valcyn was nervous too, though he projected an aura of calm for his underlings. "Stay."

A weasel felt something brush his leg. It was a paw. Then a dagger flashed out of the snow, driving into his chest. He dropped so quickly that he didn't even have time to scream. The bodies that were in the square darted into buildings as other sentries began to die when arrows began to hiss out of the darkness, screaming as they died. Valcyn stood, pawing his sword anxiously as the survivors from other groups began to flood into the plaza. One officer that managed to survive reported to Valcyn and snapped a hasty and very poorly executed salute. "It's a trap, Chief! They're all around!"

Valcyn motioned towards the only group of sentries that hadn't lost anybeast yet. "We'll take that route out. Clear the way."

The officer was leading the survivors down the path when an enormous shape shot out of the door of a hut and grabbed him, bearing him into a nearby building. Valcyn heard the ferret's screams as he was brutally killed. The once-organized retreat became a fully fledged rout. Vermin panicked, trampling each other in an effort to get out of the village before they became the shadow's next victim. For many, it didn't help.

One stoat at the end of the group was hit by a rock from a sling and was catapulted through a rotting wooden wall. A shape followed him in. The hapless creature barely had time to scream before the figure drew a sword and ruthlessly cut him down.

As the remainder of the force finally made it to a safe distance away from the village, Valcyn squinted and saw a small number of other figures moving in the opposite direction before disappearing into the woods. He growled to himself. These attacks were becoming an annoyance. They had to stop. But that would come after the squirrel Thyre was dead. Valcyn had all the time in the world.

**So you can see, Valcyn doesn't have as much control over the east as you thought he did. R and R! **


	12. Waking

Thyre's eyelids fluttered and opened slowly. He was in a small but comfortable room. In the hearth nearby, a fire blazed merrily. He was lying in a comfortable bed, covered in a blanket. There was motion at the door. He turned his head and saw an ottermaid standing there, looking at him. She gave a disarming smile. "So, you're finally awake."

Thyre looked around. "Where am I?"

"A village. One that is very well hidden from Valcyn and his ilk. You're safe here."

Thyre turned his head back towards the ceiling. "How long have I been here?"

"A day, at the most. You looked like you hadn't slept in a long time. Why have you come here?"

Thyre sighed. "I've come back to get revenge on Valcyn. I escaped from him a while ago."

The ottermaid nodded, then came over to him and began bathing his brow with a cloth soaked in warm water. Thyre closed his eyes. She placed a paw on his chest. "You should sleep. You need it. Just call if you need anything."

Thyre nodded. "Thank you," he murmured. He dropped off to sleep again, lulled by the warmth of the fire and the comfort of the bed.

The ottermaid walked out of the room and then to a male badger that was sitting nearby. The badger looked at her. "Is he awake?"

"He was for a moment, then I persuaded him to go back to sleep."

The badger pressed his lips together for a moment, then nodded. "A wise decision. Did he tell you anything?"

"He escaped from Valcyn and has come back to get revenge. That's all he told me."

The badger rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If he was enslaved by Valcyn, he might be a valuable ally. Be sure to tell me as soon as he wakes up. Feed him, care for him, and we'll talk to him."

The ottermaid nodded and went back into the room. The badger rose and walked away.

Thyre's dreams were more peaceful than the last time he had gone to sleep, and he woke up much more rested. The ottermaid was still there, watching him. Thyre blinked. "Who leads this village?"

"Arese. He is a badger. He's led a hit-and-run war against Valcyn for some time now. We've been a very big thorn in his side."

She took a small pot of soup off of the fire and spooned some into a bowl. She began to feed him, still speaking as he chewed each spoonful. "Arese would like to speak to you as soon as you are well enough. Do you think you will be soon?"

Thyre nodded. "I believe so. But why doesn't he come in here now?"

She put another spoonful of soup into his mouth. "Because he is waiting on my word. I am the village's healer, and I decide when you are well enough for him to pressure with questions."

"You're questioning me right now. So why can't he?"

The ottermaid smiled and gave a small chuckle. "Arese tends to be a bit…brusque, even to creatures like you."

Thyre sat up. "I'm ready, now. When you've been fighting as long as I have, you tend to get to know your limits well."

She looked at him for a minute, then walked out, her long, heavy tail swishing along the floor. A few minutes later she reentered the room, followed by a massive badger and a number of other creatures. Arese looked Thyre over once, then turned to the ottermaid. "Thank you, Athe. You've done well."

Athe gave a small curtsy. "I do my best, Arese."

Arese turned to Thyre and sat on the floor. His head was level with Thyre. "What is your name, squirrel?"

"Thyre. This used to be my homeland."

"Athe tells me that you used to be enslaved to Valcyn. What did you do?"

"At first, he had me help build his fortress. To him, I was a minor inconvenience every time I stepped out of line. But I became one of his best…fighters, for want of a better term."

"Fighters?"

"Valcyn launches raids into the woodlands surrounding his fortress periodically to collect fresh meat for the arena that he has. There are dozens, and the ones that die are thrown onto a bonfire that is regularly lit."

Arese's eyes narrowed viciously. He gave a low growl that made Thyre's bones tingle. "How did you escape?"

Thyre hesitated for a moment. "With the help of a friend. I was friends with an otter named Jarren. A few days before my escape, I sparked a riot in the training yard. As punishment, Valcyn made me fight Jarren. I won, and thought that I killed him. I was wrong. That night, he freed me and we fled to Mossflower together. After a few days, however, Valcyn found us. He attacked us and a group of creatures from Redwall Abbey that we were protecting. Jarren was killed by Valcyn himself while protecting them." Thyre shook slightly, his voice wavering. "I wish he was here now."

Arese laid a massive paw on Thyre's shoulder. "It wasn't your fault that he died. The death of your friend is just another thing that Valcyn must die for."

Thyre nodded. "That's why I came back, Arese. I intend to make him pay dearly. I lost friends and family to him, and I'm not going to lose any more." Looking around, he spotted the mementos that he had brought along on a table nearby. Taking Jarren's dirk, he held it up to his face. "I swore to Jarren that I'd get the other fighters out. I intend to keep that promise."

Arese raised a skeptical eyebrow. "You will find that hard with only a broken sword and a dirk to fight with."

Thyre looked at him. "Do you have a forge?"

Arese nodded. "Yes. As soon as you are well, I will take you to it."

A mouse ran into the room and cupped his paws around Arese's ear, whispering into it. Arese scowled, then whispered something back. He looked at Thyre. "Apparently, you are not the only creature that managed to find their way here."

He stood out of Thyre's field of vision so that the squirrel could see the prisoners brought in. As they were, his eyes widened.

Standing in the doorway, looking extremely embarrassed, were Triss and Justyn. Thyre narrowed his eyes. "You two had better have a _very_ good explanation for why you followed me."

Justyn gave a noncommittal shrug. Triss stood uncomfortably, shifting her footpaws.

**Uh-oh. Anyways, a minor spoiler on the next chapter. Thyre gets new weapons. R and R! More to come soon!**


	13. Forging

Thyre was pacing in front of the two, Jarren's dirk out and spinning in his paw. "I told you _not_ to follow me. Why did you? Well?"

Triss took a step forward. "We wanted to help, Thyre! You can't do this by yourself. I hardly think that one squirrel can defeat an entire vermin horde alone."

Thyre gave her a look that would have caused a tree to wither and die on the spot. "If I die, then so be it. I told you that I'd die to see my family and friends again. And even if I died, the others might muster enough courage to do it themselves. And I know that _you_ aren't a fighter by nature, even though you come from the northlands and grew up as a slave. You didn't have to fight every day of your life, watch others die in front of you just to be able to live for another night. You haven't watched guards beat prisoners senseless merely because they woke up annoyed that morning."

Triss didn't have Martin's sword; it had been confiscated before she had been brought there. Even so, she took another step forward. "The vermin I was enslaved by killed my father! I lost the next closest thing to them, too!"

"But you managed to free the slaves eventually!" Thyre shouted back. "I don't have the luxury of a clear conscience as you do, Trisscar Swordmaid!"

The use of her full name struck Triss dumb for a moment. Thyre took advantage of her silence to storm out of the cave, roughly pushing Justyn out of his path. Arese gave an audible huff. "I wouldn't like to be any vermin that stand in that one's way. He has the look of one that would do anything to punish those that wronged him."

Triss could only nod as Thyre jumped into the forest and was gone.

Thyre climbed the tallest tree he could find and looked back the way he came. The village was all but invisible unless under close scrutiny. Even then, Thyre could only make out a small rise and a smattering of small hillocks that marked it out from the other clearings in the forest. The hillocks were gathered around a small lake with a number of trees encircling it. He looked around again, spotting a dark blot on the horizon. He narrowed his eyes. Sighing, he jumped back down the tree and almost fell on top of Arese. The badger had come up so quietly that even Thyre's keen ears had not heard him. Arese raised an eyebrow. "You asked me if you could see our forge earlier. I tend to make that a reality."

Thyre nodded and Arese led him back towards the village. Once inside, the badger led him into a larger hill. Thyre followed Arese, looking at his back and at the weapons that he carried. Arese carried a pair of swords that were longer than Thyre was tall.

Arese stopped so suddenly that Thyre almost bumped into him. The badger turned. "We have arrived. I can help you smith your new weapon, if you wish. I will point out the best metal that we need. If you are truly as determined as you say you are, you will need it."

Thyre nodded. "Thank you."

Arese led Thyre into a small room. There were no windows, only a large vent that led into a tunnel. Shelves filled with lumps of ore lined the walls, and a smithy, anvil, and trough sat in the center. There was also a chest filled with various forging equipment, including aprons, tongs, hammers, and bellows. The badger took Thyre's shoulder and gestured to the shelves of metal with one massive paw. "These are all the metals that we have been able to find. They all make good weapons, but for your purpose," he paused for a moment to look around, shifting through the shelves before finally coming up with a large lump of metal. "I'd say that this is the proper one for you. We saw it fall from the sky one night, and after it cooled, we brought it back here before Valcyn's vermin could get to it."

Thyre looked at the lump, then back up at Arese. "You'll help me?"

The badger smiled. "I'd be glad to."

They set to work. Arese worked with stoking the forge and keeping the fire going, all the while bellowing out instructions. Thyre, sweating profusely, beat at the forge all through the day and long into the night. Steam billowed, metal glowed, and the constant ringing of the hammer worked itself into Thyre's mind. As he worked, he thought to himself. _This is to free the others. This is to kill Valcyn. This is to avenge Jarren, my parents, Avis, and all of the lives that have been ruined because of Valcyn and his ilk. _He repeated the words constantly, in time with the hammer blows. When it finally stopped, he was exhausted.

Arese shooed him off. "Good. Very good. Now go. It's late, and I can finish here."

Thyre didn't protest, stumbling out of the room and back into the village. Managing to get to the room he had woken in before he could fall over and sleep where he fell, he collapsed onto the bed and was asleep before his head even hit the mattress.

**You'll find out what Thyre made in the next chapter. I'll post another one because this one's so short. R and R!**


	14. New Swords

The sun was shining the next morning as Thyre woke. There was a change of clothes waiting for him on his bed. Dressing in a clean tunic, Thyre walked out into the sun. The village was busy with creatures going about their business. He looked around at a tap on his shoulder. Athe stood there, a smile on her face. "Arese wishes to see you, when you have the time. He says it's important."

Thyre nodded. "Thank you." At her nod, he turned and walked down to the lake. The shores were almost completely quiet, only the noises of the village and the creatures relaxing on its shore breaking the silence. He sat on a log close to the water, staring into the ripples. He suddenly saw a face. A mouse, the same he'd seen in the abbey on his first night there, watching him.

"Martin?" he whispered, leaning closer.

The mouse smiled, then disappeared as a voice jarred Thyre out of his thoughts. "Thyre?"

Thyre turned. Triss stood there, her paws folded guiltily. "I…I wanted to say that I'm sorry."

Thyre shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Triss. I was angry. I was wrong to vent it on you." He rose. "Arese wants to see me. I have to go."

He walked past her, leaving her standing there, confused. As he walked away from the lake, Thyre blinked. "What do you want, Martin?" he asked himself in a whisper. "What can you gain from me?"

_More…_ a voice in his head whispered. Thyre blinked. He could definitely hear something, but only snatches of it.

_You…she…on your own…_

Thyre shook his head. "I don't have time for this." He walked even faster, towards where Athe had said Arese's dwelling was.

Coming into the badger's home, Thyre looked around in awe of all the weapons that hung on the walls. Enormous axes, daggers the size of regular swords, massive bows and arrows to match, spears twice as tall as he was.

"Thyre? Is that you?"

Thyre turned as Arese made his way from another room. "Yes. Athe said you wanted me for something."

Arese smiled and nodded. "Yes, I did. Come." He beckoned, then went off into another side room. Thyre followed, curious. When they entered a large room, this one largely empty except for a small table on one side with a wrapped object on top of it, Arese stopped. Going over to the table, he picked up the object and carried it over to Thyre. "I worked even later into the night than you did, making them fit for you. You were so tired I wanted to stop you when you started again, but you seemed so focused that even when I tried, I couldn't get you away from the forge."

Thyre took the package and, to his astonishment, it felt as light as a feather. Opening it, he looked on in wonder at the two swords, perfectly straight and of equal length. The hilts, wrapped in brown leather, fit his paw precisely. The balance was perfect. Arese took them back, letting Thyre draw them and practice for a short time. "How do they feel?"

Thyre looked up. "Perfect. Like they were made for me."

Arese chuckled. "In a sense, they were. You were the one that made them. I merely finished them."

He took the other two objects that were lying amid the folds of the wrapping. "Here, take these. You'll need them."

Thyre slid the swords into their scabbards, then slung them onto his back, parallel to each other. Arese nodded. "Good. Very good."

Thyre smiled and bowed. "Thank you. I don't know if I can ever repay you for what you've done."

Arese chuckled and patted the squirrel on the shoulder. "I believe killing Valcyn will settle the debt."

**If you were paying attention to the last chapter, you'll know that Thyre made his swords out of the same kind of metal as Martin's sword.**


	15. Jailbreak

That night, Thyre stood at the edge of the village, facing the direction of Valcyn's fortress. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and made to move forward when Triss's voice sounded in his ears. "Thyre?"

He turned. "What, Triss?"

Triss was armed, and her eyes were determined. "I'm coming with you."

Thyre shook his head. "No, Triss. It's too dangerous. I have to free forty creatures from Valcyn's fortress, and if I'm spotted, I may have to fight off an entire horde on my own."

Triss walked closer. "That's why I want to come with you. You can't do this by yourself."

"I have to try."

"And if you fail?" she asked, cocking her head to one side. "What happens then? Valcyn finds us and kills us all?"

Thyre looked over his shoulder. Triss put a paw on his shoulder. "What would Jarren do if he was here?"

Thyre lashed out, slapping her paw away. "You're not Jarren. Nobeast is." His anger faded quickly, and he sighed. "But you're right. Jarren would want me to take any help I could get. Is Justyn with you?"

She shook her head. "I'm here alone."

Thyre turned. "Then let's go."

The two ran into the forest, taking to the trees to speed their travel.

Peeking out from behind a rock, Justyn watched them go. "Oh no you don't." he muttered. He left his hiding spot and ran after them.

In the training yard of Valcyn's fortress, a young mouse stood at the window, looking at the tower. "I'm going to kill that pine marten one day."

An old hedgehog named Doran put a paw on his shoulder. "Get down from the window, Aaron. You'd die before you even got close to Valcyn."

Aaron sighed. "I wish Thyre and Jarren were here."

"They're probably both dead. Nobeast escapes Valcyn. They always come back."

Doran did not know how truly he spoke. As he and Aaron were speaking, Thyre and Triss stood in a tree just outside the wall. Thyre's eyes were locked on the one sentry patrolling the wall. He looked at Triss. "There are more in the yard, but there's no alarm bell."

"Why?" Triss asked.

"Because Valcyn didn't want us falsely luring the garrison in and slaughtering them if we managed to escape. Once we free all of them, we're going to go to where they keep all of our weapons."

"What if one of the sentries manages to sound the alarm?"

"Then we get as many out as we can."

They split up, each going to a different part of the wall. Thyre ran to a tree that had a branch that ended close to the wall. Running along it, he jumped onto the wall and immediately made for the sentry. The stoat turned and drew his sword. Thyre drew one of his own. He swung at the guard, knocking his blade away before bringing the other back around to slice the stoat's throat open. Drawing his other sword, he looked down. The three sentries were all sitting around a loudly crackling fire, and had not heard the sounds of clashing steel. Looking at Triss, who had just gotten onto the wall, he pointed at them. She nodded.

Thyre jumped. He landed behind two of the sentries and immediately swung his swords in opposite directions, slaying them both. They crumpled to the ground as the remaining guard was silenced by Triss. Thyre looked at her and jerked his head towards the one door to the compound. They both walked forward. Kicking the door open, Thyre walked in and stabbed the guards on either side of the door. As they fell against the wall, dead, he walked down the hallway. Coming to a junction, he pointed down one hallway. "The weapons room is that way. Get it open and wait for us."

She nodded and walked down the hallway. There was the sound of breaking wood followed by steel clashing. Thyre heard a gurgle, smiling as he walked towards the hallway that held the fighters. Sheathing one of his swords, he drew Jarren's dirk and took a key from one of the door guards. He opened the door and threw the dirk as the guard turned. The ferret crumpled to the ground with the blade embedded in his neck.

He looked around. Most of the fighters were still sleeping. Thyre walked over to the closest cell and swung his sword downwards, breaking the lock. Swinging the door open, he entered and shook the occupants. A young hedgehog and an even younger otter. Thyre knelt and looked at them both. "When were you brought here?"

"A few days ago," said the hedgehog. "Who are you?"

Thyre smiled and hugged the hedgehog, careful of the spikes. "I was once a fighter, like you. I've come back to make Valcyn pay for what he's done." He stood up. "Come on. I'll take you somewhere safe. Have you been given weapons?"

Both nodded. Thyre pointed down the hallway. "Down that hallway there's a squirrelmaid in the weapons room. Go inside there, get your weapons, and stay there until I come."

They ran out of the cell and down the hallway in the direction of the weapons room. Thyre repeated the process on every door in the hallway. Nobeast questioned him until he got to the final cell.

As he walked up to it, a young voice stopped him. "Thyre?"

Thyre squinted and then smiled as Aaron came into the light. "I remember you. The mouse that I helped. What's your name?"

"Aaron. Is Jarren with you?"

Thyre hung his head. "No. He died protecting others from Valcyn's vermin." He looked up as Doran came to stand beside the young mouse. "Doran. Good to see you again."

The old hedgehog smiled. "Likewise, Thyre. Get us out of here."

Thyre took a step backwards. "Stand away from the door." After they did so, he swung downwards, shattering the lock. The door swung open and Aaron nearly knocked him to the floor as the young mouse hugged him fiercely. Thyre was taken aback, then returned the embrace. He stood up. "Come on. Get your weapons. I'll be there soon."

As Aaron and Doran ran out of the room, Thyre looked around. All of the cells were empty, their doors swinging free. Thyre walked to the center of the hallway, where the weasel guard's corpse still lay. Thyre retrieved Jarren's dirk and then walked down the hallway. Coming to the weapons room, he looked at the forty fighters that were there. He looked at Doran. "Have there been any fights lately?"

The hedgehog shook his head. "Not since you escaped. Valcyn didn't want anybeast to repeat your escapade, so we've been locked in here for weeks."

Thyre nodded. "Good. Come with us. All of you."

They made their way out, Thyre leading the way. As they did, the door swung open, revealing a rat with a spear. Thyre, who had sheathed both of his weapons, backpedaled and was reaching for a sword when the rat choked, then gurgled as he fell forward. Justyn stood in his place, his sword gleaming in the moonlight as blood ran across it.

Thyre smiled. "I should have known you'd follow us."

Justyn stepped forward and placed a paw on the squirrel's shoulder. "I'm your friend. I'm helping you, like I should."

Thyre mirrored Justyn and nodded at him. "Apology accepted." He looked at the others. "Hurry."

They ran across the yard. There was an instance when the gate swung open to reveal a weasel, but before he could speak Aaron ran forward, disarming the guard, then killing him with a sword to the stomach, followed by another one to the back. Straightening, he looked up and showed Thyre the sickle swords he had used. Thyre nodded. "Impressive."

They climbed the ladder on the wall then lowered themselves over it, each landing safely on the forest floor. When they were all assembled, Thyre raised a sword and turned, heading back in the direction of the village. They all walked off into the night, leaving Valcyn and his vermin none the wiser.

The next morning, Arese watched as the village's forty new inhabitants tore into a meal that the others had prepared for them. Chuckling, he looked at Thyre. "I must admit, I never thought you could do it. But it appears I was wrong. You got out without being spotted?"

"To our knowledge," Thyre replied. "But we still don't have the strength to attack Valcyn's fortress. Nowhere near enough."

Arese nodded. "Unfortunately, you're right. What could bring him out?"

Thyre lowered his eyes for a moment, then realized what he had to do. "Nobeast has ever escaped before. Any that have tried have been brought back and killed. He has a reputation he needs to uphold." He looked up at Arese. "Me. I'll give him me."

**And this sets the stage for the big battle at the end. R and R! I'll post more!**


	16. Setting the Stage

The village was silent that night except for a small meeting that was being held in one of the mountain's caves. Arese, Triss, Justyn, Thyre, and several of the older fighters stood around a small table that had a map of the area on it. Arese shook his head for the umpteenth time. "Are you sure there's no other way, Thyre?"

Thyre shook his head. "Yes. I'm sure. Valcyn will have discovered that the others are missing by now. He'll relish the chance to either get us back, or slaughter us all to teach those that resist a lesson. We will persuade him to come out."

"But how?" Triss asked. "You said yourself that Valcyn's horde is too large for us to take head-on."

"I don't mean a straight fight, Triss." Thyre replied. "We divide and conquer."

"How?" Justyn asked.

Thyre began pointing at various places on the map. "Here, there's a large field with a hill that would be a good place for us to face him down. It's in a sort of u shape, so we'll be trapped, but if we position ourselves at the smaller part, Valcyn's horde will be constricted and won't be able to move as well."

Arese nodded. "Now I'm beginning to understand. Will you let me suggest something, Thyre?"

Thyre nodded and stepped aside. Arese stepped forward and pointed to a patch of woods on the left side of the area. "If we place a large group here, we might be able to divide the horde. We dig a trench and fill it with lantern oil to keep them from retreating once they take the bait, then we shoot fire arrows into it and create a barrier between them and the rest of the horde."

Doran, who was in the meeting as well, pointed to the hill. "If we put archers on the hill, we'd have most of the battlefield in our sights."

Thyre smiled. "Well, this is one thing Valcyn's helped us learn. How to create a plan so that we can kill him." He looked at Arese. "How many fighters do you have?"

"Everybeast here is willing to give their lives to stop Valcyn, but there are few of us that are trained with weapons. The number of us that can fight is about two hundred. Counting the forty you rescued, we only have at least two hundred and forty warriors."

Thyre looked down at the map. "I've seen Valcyn's army before. He has at least twice our number, maybe more. We can only hope that what we've come up with will help even the odds." He stopped talking for a moment, struck by an idea. He looked up at Arese. "Do you have any moles?"

Arese nodded. Thyre smiled. "Good. Here's the plan."

The sun rose over a curtain of mist the next morning. Valcyn was walking along the walls, inspecting the sentries. None were slacking today. No sleeping at their posts. He nodded approvingly. Stopping as he came to the gatehouse, he squinted at the three figures that stood there, their outlines indistinct. One of the sentries shouted to them without being told. Valcyn inwardly approved. "Who goes there?"

"We wish to speak to Valcyn," one of them said. "Not to one of his lackeys. If he's awake, get him over here. If he's not, wake him."

Valcyn stepped into view. "What is it you want, stranger?"

"I understand that you lost all of your fighters recently?"

Valcyn growled. "And what would you know about that?"

The figure stepped forward. Valcyn laughed as he saw Thyre come into view. "Well, well, well. Have you seen the error of your ways, whelp? Come back to beg for mercy?"

"Never." the squirrel replied. "After you killed Jarren, my family, and Avis, and who knows how many other creatures, none of us will return to you. Not even under the threat of death."

"Do not taunt me, squirrel! Your terms can be provided for all too easily."

"Come and face us, then. You have the advantage in numbers, and you are all trained killers. If you are truly the master of these woods, prove it."

Valcyn smiled. "Very well. Where?"

"We will leave markers."

"Then you have your fight, squirrel. I look forward to seeing your blood on my sword."

"That makes two of us."

The three turned and walked back into the woods. Valcyn turned to the captain of the guard. "Gather the entire horde in the marshalling ground. If it's a war he wants, it's a war he'll get."

The ferret nodded and walked along the walls, taking each sentry with him. A stoat in one of the gate towers blew a horn that echoed through the woods and the fortress, calling the horde into ranks.

He turned to the forest again. "I am still not frightened, whelp. And I never will be."

**Sorry for the shortness of this one, but I think the one before it makes up for it. The battle's in the next chapter! R and R!**


	17. Preparations

In the wee hours of the next morning, Thyre walked among the army of woodlanders that was preparing to meet Valcyn's horde. A group of moles made a trench around a large area of the battlefield while others filled the trench with oil. Another, larger group was underground, hollowing out the ground and supporting the ceiling with large wooden planks. At the far end of the site, other moles concealed an exit tunnel that they had dug.

Arese paced the hill that overlooked the battlefield, surveying the line of grim-faced archers that were gathered there. Occasionally taking a bow in his massive paws and stretching it, he made sure that each archer's weapons were in mint condition.

Out on the main field, Triss and Justyn supervised more preparations as other warriors placed wet bales of grass out on the field and set fire to them. Soon, thick white smoke billowed into the sky, obscuring the rest of the field. As they lit the last bale, Justyn looked at Triss. She looked positively barbaric. Blue war paint twisted in patterns around her face, and she was also equipped with a knife and a small axe that could be wielded single-pawed. She looked out at the smoke. "Do you think this will be enough?"

Justyn shrugged. "I don't know. We'll just have to find out."

Down near the hill, Thyre looked up as Arese came down the slope. "The moles just finished and everybeast is in place. Now all we have to do is play the waiting game."

"They'll most likely come with the sun, thinking we've been awake all night."

Thyre smiled. "It's hard to believe all of this just took a few hours."

Arese smiled too. "There's a lot to be said for having forty moles to help you." He squinted, then pointed. "Triss and Justyn are coming back."

Thyre looked. Triss, Justyn, and the warriors that had been helping them with the bales were jogging out of the smoke, forming up at the base of the hill. Triss and Justyn split off from the main group and ran towards the woods, leaping over the trench and going into the trees.

"In a way," he said as he watched the moles conceal both traps, "there will be two battles going on."

Arese nodded. "Let us hope that we can win them both."

There was a horn at the end of the field. Thyre's ears pricked up. "They're here."

Arese narrowed his eyes. "Indeed."

At the other end of the field, Valcyn gave an impressed huff. "They're trying very hard to annoy me. It won't work though."

He looked at one of his captains. "Send a quarter of the horde into the woods. Flank them."

The weasel nodded and walked away, raising his spear for the rest of the group to follow. They moved towards the area where the woodlanders had dug the trench, which was now well-concealed. Valcyn turned to the rest of his army. "The rest of you, forward!"

They all roared in approval and began to move forward, their bloodlust up.

A mouse acting as a scout ran up to Thyre and Arese. "They're coming, sirs. In greater numbers than us."

"Numbers don't win a battle," Arese told him.

"No," Thyre agreed. "But I bet they help." He started to walk down the hill, then turned. "Arese."

The badger looked down. The squirrel nodded to him. "Good luck."

Arese nodded and drew his swords. Thyre continued his walk down the slope, coming to the group he led, which was positioned just behind the hollowed-out ground. He paced around in front of them, speaking loud enough for them all to hear. "Once we have begun this battle, there will be no quarter. None asked for, none given. But, unlike those vermin over there, we have something to fight for. I told a group of creatures not too long ago that Valcyn could take their homes, their young, and he could even take their very lives. I told them that Jarren and I would fight to the death to keep that from happening. Jarren has kept his word. I know that each of you is willing to do the same. You are fighting to protect your own homes, your own young, from becoming Valcyn's slaves. If we fall here, they will fall with us. But we will not fail."

The sounds of the horde were growing closer. Thyre ignored it, looking back at his group. "So I say, let them come! Let them come!" He drew his swords and roared a challenge to them and the sky. "_Are you with me?!"_

They all roared in agreement. Thyre turned and held his swords out to his sides as he faced the vermin.

**For those of you that have watched "King Arthur" with Clive Owen and "The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian" would recognize some of the traps they're laying. I think that burning bales of stuff was actually a real-life military tactic. Anyways, R and R! I'll post the battle along with this.**


	18. Fire and Steel

As the smaller group of Valcyn's army approached the woods, Triss and Justyn stood together at the very edge of the forest. Justyn whispered to her. "It's been nice knowing you, Triss."

She chuckled. "If we're lucky, we'll both still be alive at the end of this." She raised her sword, giving a signal to the group of warriors behind her. They raised their bows and Doran walked down the line, lighting each arrow on fire.

The weasel captain commanding the group was one of Valcyn's best. He did not panic at the sight of fire arrows being readied. Instead, he kept his troops moving, going forward towards the enemy that dared to stand in their way.

Triss drew her sword, Justyn following suit. Raising the blade, she waited until a large number of vermin were on the other side of the trench, with the remainder still inside it. Then, she dropped her sword. Dozens of fire arrows shot into the air, all heading into the sky, then falling towards the trench. She heard the leader of the group yell for the others to raise their shields. Her face showed no emotion as the arrows thudded into the trench. One struck a rat in the heart. He fell over with a cry and the oil caught light, instantly catching along the entire length of the trench and cutting the group off from the rest of the horde.

Valcyn stopped as he turned to look at the blazing inferno that had sprung up out of nowhere, then looked back towards the front. There was nothing he could do.

Triss pointed her sword forward. With a loud cry of "Redwaaaaaaalll!" she ran forward, followed by the rest. The vermin displayed their use to war by reforming and charging them as well, and the two forces came together with a crash of swords and shields and bodies. Triss and Justyn fought side by side, slashing and stabbing and hacking at the vermin that they had trapped.

Thyre could see the light of the fire through the smoke that they'd produced. He could also see Valcyn's main force coming through the fog. He turned to his group. "Steady."

Valcyn's vermin roared as their enemy came into view. They charged forward. Valcyn stood still, his narrowed eyes locked on Thyre.

The squirrel began to count. "Ten…nine…eight…seven…"

Below, Aaron was counting as well. Behind him was a force of forty other creatures, all equipped with weapons that were stout or sharp enough to break the thick pillars of wood. "Six…five…four…"

Above, Thyre watched the paws of the vermin army as the faster runners reached the hollowed area. "Three…two…one…Now!"

Aaron screamed the same word and the group charged forward, swinging their weapons at the pillars holding up the roof. As they took out each pillar with blows of maces, axes, swords, and clubs, the roof was rumbling more and more.

Above ground, Thyre watched with satisfaction as the ground collapsed underneath the vermin, who suddenly found themselves at least ten feet lower than they had been.

On the hill, Arese saw the ground collapse and the vermin with it. Knowing he only had a short time before the attack would begin, he raised a paw. "Archers ready!"

The archers set arrows to their bows and waited. Arese dropped his paw. "Shoot!"

The twanging of bowstrings was accompanied by the singing of arrows as they fell towards the pit that the vermin now found themselves trapped in. The ones that were trying to climb out suddenly found a swarm of arrows dropping from the sky, killing many of them. The last arrow fell exactly as Aaron's group exited what remained of the escape tunnel and ran into the pit, charging at the vermin and adding to their shock. The vermin began to fall back as Thyre shouted "Charge!" and ran forward, followed by his own group.

Valcyn and the remainder of his force stood there, watching in shock that half of them had just been slaughtered in mere seconds. The pine marten turned to his army. "Charge!"

He ran forward, followed shortly after by a mob of screaming vermin, anxious for blood after seeing their comrades slaughtered. Thyre and Aaron were in the front rank as the two forces collided. Thyre stabbed a ferret and slit the throat of a weasel, fighting to reach the creature that had caused him so much pain and suffering over the course of his life.

Above on the hill, Arese could see that his archers could not fire without hitting their comrades. He looked at his archers. "Draw swords!"

The group dropped their bows and drew their swords and followed Arese down as the badger roared, charging down the hill in yet another wave of destruction.

Back inside the ring of fire, the battle was even. The vermin, in their desperation to flee from the battle, the flames, and the enemy, and the woodlanders, fighting for their homes and families, both fought like madbeasts. Triss swept an attack aside and stabbed a weasel, then was tackled from the side by a rat. Struggling to get him off, she remembered her dagger and drew it from her belt, stabbing the rat in the neck. He shrieked and rolled off of her, dead. Getting up, she left it in him and drew the axe, blocking a spear with her sword and swinging her axe into the ferret's stomach. Turning, she could see Justyn fighting as well, both islands in the sea of chaos and bloodshed that surrounded them.

Thyre was a whirlwind of destruction, his swords flashing in the strengthening daylight as he cut his way through the battle. Crossing his swords to block a blow from a club, he stabbed the fox wielding it and continued his march forward, screaming one word as he did.

"Valcyyyyyyn!"

Valcyn, still standing away from the battle, recognized the voice. Turning his eyes to its source, he saw Thyre coming towards him, finally managing to break free of the main battle to charge at him. Valcyn drew his sword as a ferret attempted to stop Thyre. The squirrel blocked the ferret's blow and then slashed him across the throat without stopping, finally reaching his enemy. Charging, Thyre swung both of his swords in a fierce slash. Valcyn moved his sword perpendicular to them, blocking them. He then pushed in the opposite direction and spun, swinging at Thyre's head. The young squirrel ducked and brought his swords down in an X-shape. Valcyn blocked the attack and forced the swords upward, kicking Thyre in the stomach before striking him across the face with his sword paw. The squirrel fell to the ground, rolling and coming back up to cross his swords, blocking Valcyn's downward strike. Thyre dodged to the right and charged at Valcyn, spinning as he landed one, two, three blows on Valcyn's upraised sword. The pine marten ducked another blow and swung his sword at Thyre's stomach. The squirrel skipped backwards and then charged forward again, crossing his swords in front of him in a horizontal x-shape. Valcyn held his sword with the edge towards Thyre. The squirrel bore him backwards a short distance before Valcyn dug in. Throwing the swords away he swung at Thyre. The squirrel's attempt to block succeeded, but one of his swords went flying through the air to stick in the ground a short distance away. Undaunted, Thyre stood there, his stance still strong. He moved his sword to a higher posture, the point facing backwards over Thyre's head. The squirrel then launched a flurry of attacks left, right, then left again that had Valcyn's sword moving to block them. In one case, the sword was nearly too slow. Valcyn countered a fourth attack, then forced Thyre's blade into the ground before clubbing Thyre across the face. The squirrel fell back, giving Valcyn enough time to turn and run.

As he fled the battle unseen by his army, Valcyn felt a tingle of doubt. The squirrel had actually managed to tire him significantly. He was more of a threat than Valcyn realized. He heard something before he reached the edge of the battlefield. The squirrel, roaring at him.

"You can run to the ends of the earth, but that won't be far enough!_ NOWHERE WILL!_"

Thyre made to run after Valcyn, but a fox charging him with a polearm distracted him. Knocking the weapon aside, he struck the fox over the head with the flat of his sword. As his opponent fell to the ground, Thyre stabbed him and looked around. Valcyn was gone, and Thyre was now surrounded by fleeing vermin, unable to stand against the resolve and fierce spirit of the woodlanders.

Back in the ring of fire, Triss was attacked by a weasel. She swung her axe at him, though it was blocked and then thrown from her grip. The weasel was holding a sword and swung at her fiercely, a blow that jarred her paws when she parried. She countered, swinging to keep him away. He ducked under the blow and struck her across the face. As she stumbled backwards he pressed his attack, dealing out three blows, the third of which passed her sword and slashed her across the chest. Her mouth open in a silent scream of pain, Triss collapsed to her knees. She turned, swinging her sword in a fierce blow that would have disemboweled Valcyn's captain had he not jumped back. He kicked her in the face, sending her sprawling.

Dispatching an opponent, Justyn turned and saw Triss fighting. He began to run forward as Triss was slashed across her sword arm, causing her to drop Martin's sword. She let the arm fall, now defenseless. As the weasel moved in to finish her off, Justyn roared and swung his sword, nearly killing the weasel there. Instead, the vermin ducked under the blow and struck the mouse across the face. Justyn recovered quickly and tackled the weasel, sending them both rolling dangerously close to the fire. The weasel came out on top and drew a dagger, but Justyn kicked him, knocking him to the ground before he could stab. Getting up, Justyn picked up his sword and held it out in front of him. The weasel charged forward and Justyn met him, the sounds of their swords only two others in the cacophony of war that had sprung up around them.

A messenger came running through the smoke up to Thyre. "Sir! The other group is in trouble. They're about to be overrun!"

Thyre looked in the direction Valcyn had headed, but turned back to the scout. "Lead me." Turning back, he raised his swords to the other creatures that were not watching prisoners. "To the right!"

They all took off towards the other battle.

Justyn pushed the weasel's sword away from him and then spun, managing to scratch the weasel's neck. Sensing that he couldn't beat the determined mouse, the weasel backpedaled, appearing off balance. Justyn pressed his advantage and swung downward to finish the weasel off. The vermin then parried the blow and, drawing a dagger from his belt, stabbed Justyn in the chest.

Justyn gasped. Sinking to his knees, he stared in shock at the hilt protruding from his heart. Looking up at the weasel that stood smirking above him, he realized what he had to do. As the weasel turned to walk away, he picked up his sword and threw it with all his might, a final, loud yell driving itself from his mouth.

The weasel was happy as he walked away, but the elation vanished as he felt a blinding pain shoot through his chest. Looking down, he saw the point of a sword, red with blood, protruding from his body. He sank to his knees and then fell forward.

Justyn fell to the side as Triss ran up to him. She rolled him onto his back and looked in his rapidly misting eyes, silently weeping at her inability to do anything that could save him. Looking around, she saw the battle was winding down, as a horde of woodlander reinforcements, led by Thyre, leapt through the flames, driving deep into the vermin, who almost immediately began to throw down their weapons. Thyre turned and ran over to them. Kneeling beside Justyn, the squirrel looked at the dagger in the mouse's heart and knew immediately there was nothing they could do.

Justyn's labored breathing began to become slower and less frequent. As his eyes began to flutter, Thyre laid a paw on his forehead. Justyn, his eyes struggling to focus on Thyre, tried to speak, attempting to say what he had intended to say after the battle. Instead, he could only watch as the squirrel whispered to him.

"I know. I forgive you, Justyn." Thyre said quietly with his paw on the mouse's forehead. "Die in peace."

Almost as soon as he had finished those words, Justyn's eyes shut forever as the mouse died with a smile on his face. Thyre hung his head and shut his eyes, then raised his head to the sky. "_It was my life to be taken!_" he shouted. "Not this! Never this!" Looking down at Justyn, he shook his head. "Never this…"

Triss looped her good arm around his shoulders as he did the same to her. They both cried into one another's shoulders as the battle finally ended and a light rain began to fall.

**Didn't see THAT coming, did you? So as you can see, Thyre's final fight with Valcyn is going to be a tough one, since he didn't even land a hit. There's only a few more chapters left. There'll be a bit of romance, too. R and R!**


	19. Pursuit

The rain hadn't increased beyond a drizzle, and Thyre strode in front of the few prisoners that they had taken. The rest had fled from the field in all directions, scattered and unable to trouble the east ever again. Thyre stopped pacing and faced the vermin. "You all should know that everybeast here would rather see you dead than free. Though I am tempted to give them that wish, I, unlike your master, am merciful. On this field today you attempted to crush a rebellion. Now you are the prisoners of the new masters of this region. Any of you that would like to die, speak now."

None spoke, all looking up at the squirrel. Thyre spoke again. "You will all be given a day's worth of food and sent away individually in different directions. You are free to go in any direction you wish, except west. That means you can't return here, and you can't go to Mossflower. We will be watching the forest from now on. If you are caught, you will die."

Turning, he walked away, leaving Arese to supervise the prisoners. Walking over to Triss, whose injuries were being tended to, he looked at the grave that was being dug for all of the woodland dead. The vermin bodies would be burnt. An ironic end for them, in his opinion. He sat down beside Triss and looked at the two bodies closest to them. Justyn was one, Doran another. Aaron the mouse had been injured and knocked unconscious, but would live. He put a paw on her shoulder. "I'm sorry about Justyn."

She shook her head. "Before the battle, he said that he hoped you'd forgive him for the things he said after Jarren died. The fact that you did will let him rest in peace."

"Besides," Thyre said, looking up. "He's in a better place now. Quiet fields and calm streams."

Triss nodded, then looked at him again. "What will you do now?"

"Valcyn escaped the battle. If I don't go after him, he'll escape and raise a new army." He rose. "I have to go."

Triss looked at him. "But will you find him?"

"I don't know. I hope so, and I swear that if it takes the rest of my life, I will kill him."

She looked at him. "But you can't! He'll kill you! You told me that during your fight with him you didn't land a single blow. How can you kill a beast that you can't even touch?"

Thyre put a paw on her shoulder and leaned in close, their faces nearly touching. "Look at me, Trisscar. What do you see when you look at me, past the scars, the anger, the face you see now? When I see you, I look past what you look like to see what you really are. When I look at you, I don't see a beautiful young maid forced into battle before her time. When I look at you, I see a fair warrior blazing with the spirits of her friends behind her, one who is merciful, yet ruthless all at once." He stood up. "I have to do this alone, Triss. Nobeast can help me. Not even you." He turned to leave.

As Athe finished bandaging the wound around her arm, Triss rose. "Thyre…before you go, I want you to know that…"

Before she could finish, Thyre turned back, leaned in close and kissed her gently on the lips. It only lasted a few seconds, and Thyre pulled away. He looked at her as he began to back up. "I know."

He turned and ran into the woods, leaving Triss to stare after him. Athe smiled. "I knew he would do that sooner or later."

Triss looked at her. "You knew?"

The otterwife nodded. "Yes. He was muttering your name while he was unconscious when he first came to us."

Triss looked back at the forest. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

Athe nodded. "I bet that wherever Valcyn is, he's in a heap of trouble."

**I like the romance I made in this story because it's more subtle than the romance I made in the first story I wrote (which I'm not going to post). I'll post Thyre's fight with Valcyn along with this. R and R!**


	20. Duel

Valcyn ran through the forest, heading east, away from the battle and his defeat. His army was destroyed, the survivors taken prisoner. He had failed to kill the squirrel, to crush the rebellion. He stopped as he realized something. He smirked. The squirrel wouldn't be satisfied with just driving him out. He wanted him dead. He'd be coming. Elated by this fact, he ran on as he heard the trees behind him start to rustle.

Thyre hid in the trees up the path from Valcyn, tugging on the strings he had tied to tree branches to make them shake when pulled on. Valcyn was almost at the trap. Thyre's other paw tightened around the other string, separate from all the others.

Valcyn didn't stop running until the web of vines sprung up in front of him. He looked around as more webs snapped into place. He was among a group of trees that were close knit and could easily conceal a creature. Looking around, he saw no way to escape. Turning his gaze to the trees, he drew his sword. "What are you waiting for, squirrel? Your woodlander friends to come and help you?"

"My friends aren't here." Thyre replied. "I am the only one."

Valcyn looked at movement in one of the trees. Thyre ran out along a branch and jumped, landing close to Valcyn in the center of the square. He drew one of his swords. "This is between me and you."

Valcyn began to circle him, smirking. "You didn't lay a paw on me at the battle. How can you possibly hope to stop me now?"

"Because you were responsible for the deaths of even more creatures. Including another friend of mine."

Valcyn snorted. "Please. After I kill you, I can escape and kill the rest of them."

Thyre stepped forward, his sword in a ready stance. "That's not going to happen. You will die here and your body will be left for the carrion birds and the insects."

Valcyn smirked. "We'll see."

Thyre ran forward, bringing the sword down in a hard chop. Valcyn blocked it and spun away, parrying a blow to his midsection. Thyre was on him in seconds, his blade moving right left right, left right. Valcyn blocked all of the blows and two others after Thyre swung at his stomach, then his legs. They both twirled away. Valcyn chuckled as Thyre began to circle him. "You disappoint me, whelp. You were my best fighter yet you can't land a single blow."

Thyre swung again, first at Valcyn's side, then his neck, then his chest. Valcyn blocked all of them, now showing his teeth in a feral, mocking smile. "Surely, you can do better!"

Thyre pushed his sword away from Valcyn's, swiping at the pine marten's legs and allowing himself to be blocked before pushing upward, making Valcyn stumble backwards. Thyre twirled right, narrowly evading Valcyn's sword.

Triss, Arese, and a group of woodlanders ran through the forest. Triss and the other squirrels in the party were in the trees, looking for any sign of where Thyre might have been. At the present they were following two trails. One set of pine marten prints, the other trail, scratches in the tree bark. Arese looked up at Triss. "Valcyn came this way, all right. Are you sure Thyre followed him?"

"He said he would, and I've never known him to go back on his word."

Arese suddenly stopped, turning his head to the side. "I can hear steel clashing." He turned to the group. "Hurry!"

They ran on.

Back in the impromptu arena, Thyre swung his sword as hard as he could. Valcyn blocked it, pushing against the squirrel. Thyre noticed that the pine marten was grinning immediately before Valcyn turned his sword and thrust it forward, slicing Thyre's sword arm open. The squirrel's arm dropped accompanied by a cry as Valcyn seized the opportunity to lay open Thyre's leg. The squirrel fell to the ground with another cry and Valcyn stood above him, watching Thyre writhe in pain. Shaking his head at the shortness of the duel, he flourished his sword before driving it downward, where it met another blade, knocking it to the side to stab into the leafy ground. Valcyn looked. Thyre had his other sword out and slowly rose as Valcyn pulled his sword free.

The pine marten glared. "I would have thought you'd learned your lesson by now, whelp."

"I was always a slow learner," Thyre replied before charging forward. He started spinning, the whirling blades keeping Valcyn at a distance as the squirrel drove him around the edge of the arena. Seeing an opening, Valcyn ducked under a blow and stabbed at Thyre with a blow that was narrowly blocked. He pressed forward, slashing at the squirrel's guard before swinging his sword hard enough to knock one of Thyre's swords from his paw. Two more slashes were blocked, and they both backed away, their swords held in high guards. They reengaged, their swords spinning in flashes of light and steel as they each sought an opening that neither was willing to give. Spinning, they moved to the center of the area, where a hard blow by Thyre was blocked and returned with a savage slash across the same arm that he had injured earlier. Thyre cried out in pain and Valcyn kicked him, sending him sprawling once again.

The pine marten stepped forward again, shaking his head as Thyre rose again, even slower than the last time. He narrowed his eyes. "You're trying my patience, squirrel."

"I…don't…care."

Thyre ran forward, jumping into the air. Using his agility and younger age to his advantage, he was a whirlwind, his sword striking at Valcyn any time he saw an opening. Valcyn managed to keep him at bay, though the squirrel would soon overwhelm him. As Thyre jumped from a tree and pressed the attack, Valcyn knocked the blow aside and thrust his sword forward, into Thyre's chest.

Thyre gasped in pain as he felt a cold blade enter him. He gave a longer gasp as Valcyn withdrew his sword, allowing the squirrel to fall to his knees. Thyre barely managed to keep himself up, his uninjured arm supporting all of his weight as he struggled to stay conscious. "No…" he whispered. "No…It can't… end like this…" He looked up. "I…promised."

"Your promises mean nothing, squirrel. Not to me, nor your pathetic friends." Valcyn folded his arms. "I look forward to watching you die a slow and painful death."

He started laughing, which quickly subsided as he heard steel scraping across the ground. He looked at Thyre. The squirrel had grabbed his sword with his one good arm and was struggling to stand. Valcyn growled. "I've had it. This time, you die."

Thyre managed to get up, shaking as he stood there. "I'm…waiting…scum."

Valcyn drew his sword, stained red with Thyre's blood. He waited for the squirrel to keel over, but Thyre instead walked forward, bringing his sword down in a silvery arc. Valcyn blocked it, and the blow that came up in the opposite direction. Thyre's next blow knocked Valcyn's sword to the side and Valcyn blocked the two others that struck left, then right. They moved into the center of the arena again. Thyre struck two hard blows, left, then right again before flourishing the sword and locking the guard of his blade with Valcyn's, twisting it upwards and throwing it into the air. With surprising agility, he caught it, and immediately had the blades crossed at Valcyn's neck.

Thyre leaned in close to Valcyn, the blood running from his mouth and staining his teeth making him seem all the more terrifying. "Do you fear me _now_?" he asked.

Valcyn was completely still for a moment before nodding.

"Beg me for mercy." the squirrel growled.

"Please…" Valcyn whimpered. "Don't kill me! Please!"

"Promise me anything."

"Anything! The fortress, the fighters, the weapons, anything! Please let me go!"

Triss, Arese, and the woodlanders ran into the clearing, then stopped, watching the scene before them unfold. Triss stared at Thyre, barely believing that the kind young squirrel that had come to Redwall only days ago had become this monster.

Meanwhile, Thyre was still speaking and Valcyn still begging.

"Offer me the world."

"Riches! Fine wines! Anything! Please!"

"Anything I want."

"_Anything!_"

Thyre thrust his face so close to Valcyn's that the pine marten could stare into his eyes and see his own terrified reflection. The last words he ever heard were these.

"_I want back everything you've taken from me."_

The swords snapped shut like a giant pair of scissors.

Valcyn's head fell to the ground with a thud, his body following a few seconds later. Thyre threw Valcyn's sword away, turning to face Triss and the others. Even Arese didn't move. Thyre only looked at Triss, the only one with the courage to walk forward and face this apparently emotionless killing machine.

Thyre took one step forward, smiled, then fell to his knees and then forward again.

Triss ran towards him, drawing Martin's sword and slicing through the vines that surrounded Thyre. She looked back at them. "I need a healer!"

She ran to Thyre and turned him over. The squirrel's eyes were closed. She only stared at him as Athe ran in through the opening she'd made and knelt across from her. She looked up at Triss, who was now holding Thyre's limp paw. "I don't know, Triss. He's very badly injured."

"He's going to live," Triss told her. "I know he is."

Athe put a paw on Triss's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Triss, but if I can't save him, nobeast can."

Triss looked back at her, then down at Thyre. Athe looked down too and saw something she'd never expected to see.

Thyre's paw was slowly curling around Triss's, a smile growing on his face. Athe looked back up at Triss, whose eyes were locked on to Thyre. "Well, if that's not proof he's still alive, nothing is."

She looked up. "Arese, I need you."

The badger walked over and waited for Athe to hurriedly bandage Thyre's wounds before gently picking him up. Cradling the squirrel as he would an infant, he looked at the others. "Back to the village. Quickly!"

They ran back the way they came, all of their minds filled with worry.

**This part was originally supposed to be two chapters, but if I'd kept it divided (where the next one started immediately after Valcyn died) it wouldn't have even taken up a page. Valcyn's death scene was inspired (and very nearly copied from, which Revenge of the Sith and the ending of the duel with Count Dooku and you'll see what I'm talking about) by the Obi-Wan and Anakin vs. Count Dooku duel in Episode II and the ending of the Obi-Wan and Anakin vs. Dooku duel in Episode III. R and R! I'll leave this for a day so you can probably bite your nails off.**


	21. Apologies

Thyre stood in nothing. There was only white around him. Looking around, he opened his mouth and shouted. "Anybeast here?"

"Yes," a voice replied.

Thyre turned and saw Martin standing in front of him. The warrior mouse smiled. "You fulfilled your promise."

Thyre nodded. "Valcyn is gone. His horde is scattered and the eastern forests will never be troubled again."

"Good." Martin replied. "Then you may come with me."

Thyre cocked his head. "Where?"

"Dark Forest, of course. If you wish to."

Thyre thought back. Redwall, the remaining fighters…Triss. He shook his head. "No. I'm not ready yet."

"Are you sure?" Martin asked. "Your friends are there already."

"Can I talk to them?" Thyre asked.

Martin nodded and turned, beckoning. Jarren and Justyn appeared out of the light. Jarren walked over and embraced his friend. Thyre smiled. "He's gone. It's over."

"Finally," Jarren replied.

"I'm sorry," Thyre continued.

Jarren cocked his head and looked at Thyre. "For what?"

"For not being able to keep you alive."

Jarren shook his head. "It wasn't your fault, Thyre. It was Valcyn's. I died a free creature, and to me, that was the important thing."

Thyre nodded. "Yes. That's what's important."

Jarren hugged Thyre again. "We'll see each other again."

Thyre buried his face in the otter's shoulder. He nodded into it, giving a muffled, affirmative noise.

Jarren let go, and with a final smile he disappeared. Justyn walked up and held out a paw. "Thank you for forgiving me. It was wrong for me to say those things."

Thyre took the paw and shook it. "It's alright. It's in the past now, and everything is fine."

Justyn nodded. "Goodbye, Thyre."

Thyre smiled. "Thank you for saving Triss."

"You're welcome. Treat her well."

The mouse disappeared, leaving only Thyre and Martin once again. The warrior mouse looked at him. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Thyre shook his head. "What did you mean by 'more' when you spoke to me?"

"I was trying to say that you'd have more time in your life. And I hope you'll spend it well."

Thyre nodded. "Thank you, Martin."

"Good luck, Thyre."

Everything faded to black.

Thyre's eyes fluttered and opened. He looked around. He was back at the woodlander village, in the same cave he had woken up in the first time. He smiled at the fact. Looking around, he saw that he was alone except for one thing.

Triss sat in a chair beside the bed. She was asleep. Thyre smiled and worked a paw free of the sheets to gently lay it on one of hers.

She jerked slightly and straightened. Looking at her paw and then moving her eyes up his arm and finally to his face, she smiled at the fact that his eyes were open. Thyre looked around again. "How long have I been out?"

"Weeks. I lost track after three."

Thyre looked under the covers. His wounds were almost completely healed; the places where Valcyn had slashed him already gone. The only wound left was the stab, and that was nearly gone as well. Triss got up and knelt by the side of the bed. "Do you think you can walk?"

Thyre carefully swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly stood. Aside from a slight pain in his chest, he felt nothing. He smiled in excitement and then they both looked to the entrance as Athe and Arese walked in. The otter healer smiled. "So, you're awake and walking. Two bits of good news."

Arese chuckled. "Indeed." He walked over to Thyre. "How are you feeling, Thyre?"

"Very well."

Athe walked over and looked at the bandage around his chest. "The wound should be healed in another day or so. You're very lucky. The sword missed anything vital."

Thyre sighed. "I don't care how bad they were. I'm just glad it's over."

Athe looked at Arese. "He can go."

Arese nodded. "Good. Dress yourself, Thyre."

Thyre took a tunic from his bedside, then walked out of the cave with all the others. As they walked along the path, Arese told Thyre about the aftermath of the battle. Twenty-five of the fighters had lost their lives. The village was short a few dozen inhabitants now. Thyre saw Aaron walking around and nodded at the mouse. Aaron nodded back. Thyre took a deep breath and released it slowly, looking around. It was so peaceful. And it would never be troubled again.

**Sorry about the delay in new postings. I got distracted because on Sunday I was busy playing the two games I got for my birthday (I'm 16 now, by the way) and was on my 360 all afternoon. But anyways, I'll post a few new chapters to make up for the delay.**


	22. In Memoriam

That night in the village's main hall, Arese raised his mug of ale to the assembled creatures. "Tonight," he said, "we remember those who gave their blood to free these woods from a great evil." He looked around, his eyes settling on Thyre for a short time before he spoke again. "Hail the victorious dead!"

"Hail!" the others echoed, and drank. Thyre paused for a moment, remembering those that hadn't survived to live this moment. Doran, Justyn, Jarren. Hundreds of others that had died during Valcyn's reign. The dozens of fighters that had died in the fortress. Thyre had been told that it had been burnt down while he was unconscious. After he drank, he looked around; spotting the fighters that had survived. The young squirrel and hedgehog had both lived, and were sitting with Aaron. Thyre smiled. Those two deserved to live. They all had.

Walking through the celebrations, he exited the building and walked down to the lake. Sitting down on the roots of a tree, he laid back against the trunk. He sighed. He remembered once, after a particularly hard fight, he had asked Doran why they had to kill one another. What Doran had said had embedded itself in his memory.

"Well, Thyre, with a creature like Valcyn it's easy to tell he likes to watch us kill each other for fun. But for us, it's deeper. Many who live deserve death, like Valcyn. Some that die, like most goodbeasts, deserve life. We can't be quick to pass judgement. All we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us."

Thyre looked up into the sky. "I did what I wanted to do, Doran. I made sure you were all free and that Valcyn was dead. I hope you're all at peace now, wherever you are."

A noise drew his attention, making him look out of the corner of his eye. Triss stood there. Without prompting she walked up to the tree and sat down beside Thyre. She looked at him. "Why aren't you inside?"

Thyre took a deep breath before speaking. "I was thinking to myself. Doran once told me that we didn't need to pass judgement immediately. There are some creatures, even vermin, I guess, that deserve to live."

Triss nodded. "I read in one of our abbey records once that there was a searat called Blaggut that became a good friend of Redwall. It was many seasons ago, but I think Doran was right."

Thyre clenched a paw and closed his eyes. "All of the fighters deserved to live. All of them."

Triss put a paw on his shoulder. "You couldn't protect them all, Thyre. They died free, like they wanted."

Thyre got up and walked down to the lakeshore, just above the tideline. He looked up at the moon. "I've spent so much of my life just fighting to survive…I don't know what I'll do now."

Triss got up as well and stopped beside him. She gently turned his head towards her. "You could come back to Redwall with me. You'll finally have peace."

Thyre shook his head. "I don't belong there, Triss. I'm a killer."

"Many creatures that Redwall's taken in were killers. Martin the Warrior was a killer like you, and he made Mossflower what it is today."

"But _I'm_ not Martin, Triss."

"You freed oppressed creatures from the rule of a vermin lord. Martin did that, and he was nearly killed doing it, like you were."

She stepped closer. "You'll like it, I promise."

Thyre stared into her eyes for a long time before answering. "All right."

He gently pressed his mouth against hers, and they stood on the lakeshore, kissing under the moon.

**Sorry for the shortness of this one, but I'll post two more to make up for it. R and R! The end's coming up!**


	23. Coming Full Circle

The next morning, both squirrels were ready to return to Redwall. Arese and Athe were going with them, to see them to Mossflower safely. After the village cheered them off, they set off down the road. Arese nodded down the path. "There's a river about a day's walk from here. We've got a boat there that we'll use to get to Mossflower."

Thyre nodded. "So I've come full circle. I left these woods for the first time in a boat, and I'm doing it again."

Arese chuckled. "Indeed. I hope you'll be happy at Redwall, Thyre."

Thyre looked down. "I hope so, too."

Triss looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Looking in the opposite direction, she saw Martin walking beside them. Looking at her, the warrior mouse spoke. "He will mend. It will take time, but he will."

She nodded at him and Martin disappeared.

They got to the boat when the sun was starting to set. Arese and Athe worked the paddles while Thyre and Triss sat in the middle. Arese looked at Thyre. "What will you do, Thyre, now that Valcyn is gone?"

Thyre shrugged. "I don't know. I think I'll train some of the younger Redwallers to defend themselves, so that Redwall can never suffer the fate that we did."

Athe nodded. "That's a good idea. Triss can help you."

Thyre and Triss looked at one another. Thyre smiled. "Maybe."

Triss smiled back.

At Redwall, Abbot Apodemus stood on top of the wall, looking at the road. Skipper came up next to him and looked at the old mouse. "It's late, Father Abbot. Shouldn't ye be gettin' to bed?"

Apodemus nodded. "Yes, you're right, Skipper. I'm worried about them all. Are they all safe?"

Skipper shrugged. "I don't know, Father. But I'm sure that they'll be back soon."

He put a paw on Apodemus's back. "Come on now, Father. Can't let ye catch a cold out here."

"I know, autumn's coming. Shouldn't you be down at the coast right now, anyway?"

"With Trissy out on an adventure? Nah. The crew's gone, but I've stayed, Father. How about this? Tomorrow, you wake me and we go out and watch for them together?"

Apodemus nodded. "We should wake any others that want to come as well. First thing tomorrow morning."

"Everybeast's worried, Father Abbot. Not just you."

Apodemus smiled. "Then we'll all worry together."

They both laughed as they walked back into the abbey.

Back on the river, Arese looked back at Thyre and Triss. "You two should get some sleep. We won't get to the ford until late morning tomorrow."

Neither protested, wrapping their cloaks around them to keep warm. Athe began to sing, lulling both squirrels off to sleep with a simple lullaby.

_Goodnight my angel, time to close your eyes,  
And save these questions for another day.  
I think I know what you've been asking me,  
I think I know what I've been trying to say._

_I promise I will never leave you,  
And you should always know,  
I never will be far away._

_Goodnight, my angel now it's time to sleep,  
And still so many things I want to say,  
Remember all the songs you sang for me,  
As we went sailing on an emerald bay._

_And like a boat out on the ocean,  
I'm rocking you to sleep.  
The water's dark and deep inside this mother's heart,  
You'll always be a part of me._

_Goodnight my angel, now it's time to dream,  
And dream how wonderful your life will be.  
Someday a child may cry and if you sing this lullaby,  
Then in your heart, there will always be a part,_

_Of me...  
_

Arese looked back at the otterwife as she held out the final note. He smiled. "Very nice."

"Thank you."

They both paddled on in silence, finally shipping oars and going to sleep as well upon coming to a straight stretch of water. Both knew that the river would be that way on until the ford.

**I do not own the rights to "Goodnight My Angel". I just put it in here because I thought it's a good lullaby. This is the Celtic Woman version of the song, which I think is more suited to a lullaby than Billy Joel's. I think I'll just post the last two bits of the story after this, because it's basically over after the next chapter. R and R!**


	24. Homecoming

The next morning, Thyre was the first to wake. Sitting up in the boat, he looked around. They had stopped, the boat run aground on a bank of pebbles. He got out of the boat and shook Triss. "Wake up, Triss. We're close."

Triss's eyes fluttered open and she looked around. "Yes, this is the right ford."

Arese gave a loud snort suddenly that made them both jump. Sitting up, the badger looked around and smiled. "There. Got here safe and sound."

Thyre bowed to Arese. "Thank you, Arese. I don't know how Triss and I could ever thank you."

"Killing Valcyn was enough," Athe said, sitting up as well. "We hope you two can come back and visit us someday."

"We'll try," Triss replied. "Thank you."

Arese took something out of the backpack he wore. "Thyre, take this. Your abbey may want it back."

Thyre took the package and opened it. Inside was Justyn's sword. He sighed, but looked up at Arese gratefully. "Thank you. At least some part of him should come home. Safe journey."

Arese nodded. "The same to you. Be careful."

Triss and Thyre walked away, waving at the two until they rowed out of sight. As they did, Thyre and Triss both entered the forest and leapt into the trees, branch-hopping their way to Redwall.

What seemed like the entirety of Redwall had gathered on the west wall after breakfast, all watching anxiously for the return of the travelers. Finally, Skipper spotted the trees shaking, coming closer to the wall. He was the only one that didn't cry out in surprise as Triss and Thyre leapt from the trees to land, perfectly balanced, on the parapets. Stepping down, they were greeted by a mob of joyful Redwallers, all welcoming them back enthusiastically. As they finally managed to extricate themselves, Apodemus walked up to them and smiled. "Welcome back. Did you accomplish your mission, Thyre?"

Thyre nodded. "Aye, Father Abbot. Triss was a very big help."

Apodemus took a closer look at them, noticing it was just the two. "Where's Justyn?"

The moods of both instantly changed. Thyre reached behind him and pulled out a sword, different from the two slung across his back. "I'm sorry, Father. Justyn is dead."

"Dead?" Crikulus asked. "How?"

"Not by me, if you're implying that. He died in battle, performing an act of bravery. Saving Triss's life."

Apodemus sighed, taking Justyn's sword. "He died well, then. Woe betides us had we been robbed of our Warrior."

Thyre nodded. "Triss performed her own service as well. She kept me alive when I nearly died at Valcyn's paws."

Apodemus smiled. "Come inside, the both of you. We'll remember Justyn this evening."

As the Redwallers began to move towards the abbey, Thyre put his paw on Triss's shoulder. "Triss, may I have a word with you?"

Triss turned. "What is it, Thyre?"

Thyre instantly became awkward, shuffling his paws and looking down at the ground. "I…I've been pondering this for a while, and…I…"

Triss cocked her head, smiling and chuckling a bit. "What, Thyre? Spit it out!"

Thyre nodded and took a deep breath. "You're right. I'm just going to say it."

He knelt in front of her. "Will you marry me?"

Triss's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in surprise. Thyre didn't move, though inwardly he was thinking _Blast it, she's going to say no. Too fast? Too early?_

And thus he was caught completely off guard when she started crying and nodding. Getting up, he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her on the lips to forestall the tears.

**That's the one bit of Triss and Thyre's relationship that I don't like. It's a bit sudden, isn't it? Although several Redwall heroes have only known their love interests for a short time and they've gotten married, so I suppose it's not that bad...R and R! There's only the epilogue left. Hope you liked it!**


	25. A Son's Writings

_Excerpt from the writings of the Abbey Recorder/Healer_

Well, it's been fifteen seasons since the day that this story began. Triss and Thyre, after informing the Abbot of their plans, immediately received his blessing. He did it because he claimed "It was a perfect match."

My parents always tell me that Justyn the mouse and Jarren the otter were both fierce warriors, yet kind at the same time. My father tells me that Jarren was the best friend he'd ever had. My mother says that next to Thyre, she'd never seen a creature go from a scarred warrior to a peaceful Redwaller in a shorter time than Justyn. My twin brother now holds the mantle of Abbey Warrior, trained by my father. I am one of Redwall's youngest Recorders, and its youngest Healer as well. My father, Thyre, sits by Jarren's grave daily and frequently naps there. Nobeast disturbs him. We all went to my father's homeland once. My namesake lies there, and it was there that my mother, Triss, returned Justyn's sword to its rightful owner. A Recorder has no use for a sword. I think that, wherever Justyn is now, he's happy that things turned out like they are. I met the badger Arese, who helped my father forge the swords that now hang in the gatehouse I write in. He has no use for them now except to spar with Jarren. My father took me to the small memorial that had been erected for the fallen in the battle that drove Valcyn from the land, then to the former sight of his fortress. He looked sad, and when I asked him why, he said that there were the bones of many friends there, friends that had never been buried properly. My mother told him that what he'd done had allowed them to rest peacefully.

But now the bell tolls for dinner. My mother and father are most likely already inside. My father must say the grace. Yes, Redwall has a warrior Abbot. A retired warrior, but still. I must go. But I give you this invitation: The gates of Redwall are ever open to those who come in search of friendship, comfort, and especially a new life.

_-Brother Justyn, son of Triss and Thyre, brother to Jarren the Warrior, Recorder and Healer of Redwall Abbey in Mossflower Country._

**And so another story is fully posted. I'm not really close to finishing any others, so I might not be very active for a bit afterwards. I might write another "Aura Chronicles" oneshot, but with school just starting, I don't think I'll have very much time. Once again, hope you liked it!**


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